


We Were Not Surprised to Find Each Other's Eyes

by animitz



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, And titles, Book 1: Water (Avatar), Eye Color, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, M/M, Moon Spirit Sokka (Avatar), No Smut, Soulmate AU, Soulmates, Torture, definitely flirty/fluff though, i might walk it, i will probably change it, i’m going back and editing old chapters as i go, no beta we die like men, obligatory angst, please leave me comments if something doesn’t make sense or isn’t described enough, please read my stuff, there’s a line, they’re both underage in this so, updated pretty regularly, zukka - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:47:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 60,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26872390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/animitz/pseuds/animitz
Summary: Zuko’s head hung even lower. He wasn’t here for his father and he certainly wasn’t here for his soulmate. Zuko had made peace a long time ago with the fact that whoever his soulmate was would hate him. Zuko’s blue eyes meant that his soulmate was Water Tribe, but what Water Tribe member would love a Fire National. A Fire Prince at that. “I’m offering myself willingly as a prisoner,” he said.“Willing or not, you are indeed a prisoner,” the chief replied. “And whatever you know, I will know soon.” He waved his hand again and the men behind Zuko moved closer. “Take him to the prison.” In a quieter tone, the chief said to one of the men now hauling Zuko to his feet, “Make sure Prince Sokka doesn’t hear a word of this.”
Relationships: Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), Katara & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 271
Kudos: 960





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My one and only zukka fic, please enjoy. Gonna combine two of my favorite AUs, moonspirit Sokka and eye color based on what nation your soulmate is from for no good reason other than I can’t stop thinking about this. I can’t remember who to credit for these AUs, but I will find out so I can add some links to their fics.

When Zuko was captured by the Northern Water Tribe, he didn’t resist. His journey away from the Fire Nation had been lonely and difficult, and for once, he wasn’t in the mood for a fight. 

He hadn’t meant to steer his ship so far north, in fact, he had been trying to steer himself towards the Earth kingdom until an unexpected storm blew him extremely off course. Without a crew, a skilled navigator, or a clear enough sky to see the stars, Zuko had found himself hopelessly lost. It wasn’t until he passed the first few telltale icebergs that he even realized just how far off course he had gotten. 

He assumed it was a fishing boat that first spotted him, due to the small stature of the approaching vessel. He didn’t try to change his course, but waited patiently for the water tribe boat to reach him. Whatever they planned to do once they reached him was better than what he had already endured on the open sea, Zuko figured. 

When the boats met, the men on the fishing vessel were already armed, their spears pointed menacingly at Zuko. As they boarded his boat cautiously, Zuko’s exhausted limbs sank into a kneel. He stared at the wooden boards beneath him as the water tribe members formed a circle around him. 

“Explain yourself, stranger,” one of the men said at last. “We don’t usually get visitors, especially ones from the Fire Nation.” 

Eyes still fixed beneath him, Zuko didn’t reply. He had already incriminated himself by taking a Fire Nation boat and so blatantly wearing Fire Nation clothing. The Water Tribes must hate him, he thought, beginning to regret his decision to not flee earlier. 

The man who spoke took a step nearer. He gently hooked the tip of his spear under Zuko’s jaw and raised it, forcing the boy to raise his head. 

As soon as Zuko’s eyes reached their level, the men let out a collective gasp and a few hushed whispers. The man hastily withdrew his spear. Zuko flushed and quickly cast his eyes downward.

He listened as the men spoke to each other quietly in tones too hushed to be coherent.

Eventually, the man who had spoken earlier approached him again. “Come with us willingly, or we will be forced to attack.”

Zuko’s head sunk lower, but he raised his wrists carefully to the man. 

Another man stepped forward then, wrapping Zuko’s wrists with a coarse rope. Zuko was hauled to his feet and shoved forcefully towards the men’s vessel. He stumbled as they yanked him onto the boat, prompting one of the men to pick him up by the back of his tunic and throw him onto the deck.

Zuko landed by a net, full of fresh fish carcasses. He shuddered involuntarily as the smell filled his nostrils. The man who had thrown him approached, stopping far enough away that it was clear he didn’t want to talk, but close enough that Zuko knew he was being watched. 

Two men assumed a position at the helm of the small vessel and with a wave of their arms, the boat was propelled forward. Waterbenders, Zuko thought. 

He watched, almost in awe, as they expertly directed the craft forward, reaching a speed that Zuko was sure most Fire Nation vessels couldn’t match. From his position, Zuko couldn’t see much more than the man watching him, the fishing net, and the men at the helm, but he could feel the icy cold slap of ocean spray when it cascaded into the boat. 

He tried not to feel nauseous, but he couldn’t help the shivers rattling his frame. He wasn’t dressed for the cold; when he had left the Fire Nation, he’d barely had enough time to collect a single outfit and a dagger, which he realized forlornly had been left behind on his own boat. If he had had more time, he would’ve thought to bring a thicker tunic, but he had just grabbed the first one in sight. 

Zuko was still cursing himself silently for not bringing a better outfit when the craft collided with a shore. Although it wasn’t really a shore, Zuko mused, just an ice shelf. 

The man in front of him moved suddenly, grabbing Zuko by the rope that held his wrists together and pulling him off the vessel. 

Almost immediately as his feet hit the snow, he was blindfolded. 

Zuko tried not to think about the discomfort of blindness as he was marched forward. If he stumbled over the snow he couldn’t see or his pace lagged slightly, he was met with a rough shove from behind. 

After what felt like forever, a hand grabbed Zuko’s shoulder, yanking him to a sudden halt. The man’s hand remained on his shoulder as another man stepped away from the flank surrounding Zuko. 

Zuko heard a knock, which was followed by the sound of a door opening. The man who knocked spoke a few words, which Zuko couldn’t decipher, to which another man replied, “I’ll inform the chief. Bring him to the smaller hall in the meantime.” A single set of footsteps receded quickly inside of the building. 

The men reassumed position flanking Zuko and pushed him forward again, too quickly. His foot connected suddenly with a solid block of ice, prompting a yelp from the boy.

A voice to his left said humorlessly, “Watch out, there’s stairs.”

Zuko groaned quietly in response, but dutifully lifted his knee, guessing the height of the stairs. Once his foot met the top of the first stair, the men pushed him forward again. Zuko barely managed the first few stairs and tripped himself on the final stair. One of the men caught him by his shirt as he fell forward, keeping him from falling face first onto the ice. 

Zuko realized they were inside as the sound of a door closing came from behind. The space didn’t feel any warmer, but the cut of the wind was gone. Zuko was grateful for that at least.

Hurriedly, the men pushed Zuko forward, roughly yanking him around corners when necessary. Luckily, there weren’t any more stairs. 

They reached the hall quickly. Zuko felt one of the men leave the group and heard it as he opened a pair of heavy double doors. It sounded like ice scraping ice as the doors swung open. 

As soon as the doors were opened, Zuko was shoved to the floor inside the room. None of the men joined him inside, though. He heard receding footsteps, but only one set, meaning the rest of the men must be waiting outside the doors. 

The bare skin of his hands and face burned where they were touching the icy floor, but he didn’t want to move and earn another shove to the ground. 

It didn’t take long for the footsteps to return, but this time it sounded like at least three people. Two of the footsteps stopped somewhere behind Zuko, while the third moved in front of him, stopping at a cautious distance. 

Zuko heard the ruffle of fabric in front of him, like the wave of a richly clothed arm, and suddenly he was hauled to a rough kneel. He felt hands on the back of his head and the blindfold was unknotted. 

It fell to the floor at Zuko’s knees. His eyes followed it, not daring to look forward at the figure surveying him. 

Tension was radiating from the man in front of Zuko, but all Zuko could do was blink dumbly at the bright light now suddenly invading his vision. The man cleared his throat impatiently.

So Zuko looked up, taking in what must be the chief of the Northern Water Tribe, judging by the elaborate fur trim of his tunic.

The chief’s breath caught in his throat as he saw Zuko’s face. Zuko felt himself blush again, but resisted the urge to cast his eyes downward. On the sea, there was no one to call attention to the color of his eyes, but here, he was again scrutinized for their startling blue shade. It had been some time since anyone had drawn attention to his strangeness. Zuko cursed himself for forgetting that he was different. 

The chief muttered something under his breath that Zuko didn’t catch, then collected himself, folding his arms across his chest and drawing himself to his full height. “What business do you have here?” the chief asked bluntly.

Zuko felt himself swallow, but the lump in his throat didn’t budge. In what he hoped wasn’t a choked voice, he said, “I’m not here on any business. I was blown off course.”

This seemed to anger the chief, whose brow darkened. He said, “But you are here now. A Fire Nation vessel in our waters is as good as an act of war.”

The lump in Zuko’s throat seemed to double in size, if that was possible. “I’m not here to fight,” he pleaded. 

The chief’s anger was clearer now as he took a commanding step forward. Zuko flinched, slightly, but noticeably. The chief said, “Do you take me for a fool, Prince Zuko? Did you think we were so out of touch that I wouldn’t recognize the son of the Firelord?” He was practically spitting his words. 

Zuko’s head bowed. “No,” he said lamely, shame burning his ears. 

“Whatever your reason for coming here, whether it’s business from your father or a misguided attempt to find your soulmate, rest assured I will find out. You made a mistake coming here, Prince Zuko. I intend to exploit that mistake,” the chief said. 

Zuko’s head hung even lower. He wasn’t here for his father and he certainly wasn’t here for his soulmate. Zuko had made peace a long time ago with the fact that whoever his soulmate was would hate him. Zuko’s blue eyes meant that his soulmate was Water Tribe, but what Water Tribe member would love a Fire National. A Fire Prince at that. “I’m offering myself willingly as a prisoner,” he said. 

“Willing or not, you are indeed a prisoner,” the chief replied. “And whatever you know, I will know soon.” He waved his hand again and the men behind Zuko moved closer. “Take him to the prison.” In a quieter tone, the chief said to one of the men now hauling Zuko to his feet, “Make sure Prince Sokka doesn’t hear a word of this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--update because I finally learned how to add links in html-- the moon spirit sokka au was created by [PeachieFlame on Tumblr](https://peachieflame.tumblr.com) (thanks DustyCharacter!) and the eye color au I'm drawing from was written by [SarsparillaSparrow](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23439082). I was also really inspired by this lovely work by [CHSfic and VSfic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26098987/chapters/63484135). I'm not sure if both fics are completely finished, but I highly recommend giving them a read! ☺️


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EEEEE thank you so much to everyone who took the time to give me a nice comment or kudos!!! I appreciate you all you're delightful! I really wasn't expecting to get any interest in this fic, but I'm glad y'all liked the opening and I hope you keep sticking with me!

The chief's next order was that Zuko be reblinded. 

After the men replaced the Fire Prince's blindfold, they dragged him through the building, palace perhaps, and down a relentless tunnel of corkscrewing stairs. They descended so far into the ice that by the time Zuko’s shoes were removed and he was thrown into a cell, the ground beneath him was coarse earth. 

The men didn’t join him in the cell, just closed the door loudly, which without his sight, Zuko was unprepared for. He startled, then folded himself tightly, preparing for the worst. 

But the men's footsteps receded, leaving Zuko to assume he was alone. After waiting for a long time, what seemed like hours at least, Zuko cautiously raised his still-bound wrists and loosened the blindfold, pulling it down around his neck. 

The darkness afforded by the single torch in the room he was imprisoned in was a relief. His eyes didn’t need to strain while he could allow himself the bliss of being able to see again. He drew a calming sigh as his eyes glanced around. 

There wasn’t much to look at as it were. The room was small, barely bigger than the cell he was in. Its walls were massive sheets of ice, which chilled the room, though there was heat emanating from the earth. 

His cell itself was constructed mainly of metal, which was strange, Zuko thought. Since when has the Water Tribe traded for metal? 

The cell was just a small metal box built into one of the ice walls of the room. The cell's slatted metal top jutted out of the ice wall at a height barely taller than a full grown man and was supported by three barred walls that enclosed the space. Opposite the ice was the door to the cell, built into the metal and constructed of the same thin bars. 

Zuko realized he was nearly touching the cell's ice wall and quickly slid his body to the other side of the cage, avoiding touching the cold metal to his back, but barely. 

He shivered and felt as the muscles in his jaw tightened, clacking his teeth together. He brought his legs to his chest and wrapped his arms around as best he could. It was uncomfortable and caused the rope to dig deeper into his wrists, but it provided him with a little warmth. 

There was a single hallway leading out of the room, but it wasn’t lit by anything and Zuko couldn’t see into it. There weren’t any guards in the room, but Zuko knew that there would be men waiting in the hallway. He could only hope the darkness of the hallway impaired the guard's line of sight as much as it did his. 

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, but fully, releasing all of the air in his lungs. His thin shirt was damp from the snow that had been falling outside and it clung stubbornly to his skin, deepening the cold he felt. Despite his chill though, he could still feel his inner flame, weak as it was. He stoked it with his breathing, willing it to grow inside of him and warm his aching limbs.

As he sank deeper into his meditation, his skin warmed rapidly. He heated until a massive cloud of steam rose from his body, the water in his clothes and hair evaporating into the air. 

There was a shout from the hallway then and Zuko broke his trance with a sudden arrhythmic gasp. Two men rushed into the room from the hallway and Zuko threw himself against the ice wall behind him, pushing himself as far away from the men as he could. 

He heard more yelling in the hallway as the men in the room lowered their spears towards him. 

Zuko heard chains before two more men brought them into the room. They looked heavy and ominous. One of the chain bearers waited by the spear holders while the second walked right up to the door of the cell. With his free hand, he retrieved a set of keys.

Zuko flinched as the door was unlocked and swung open. The man took a single step inside of the cell while the spear holders moved to its sides. They lowered their spears, prepared to pierce Zuko through the narrow cell if necessary. 

“Be an obedient prince and move to the center of the cell. Kneel,” the man entering Zuko’s cell commanded. 

Zuko obeyed instantly, shuffling towards the center on his knees, not bothering to rise to his feet. 

“Turn around. Put your hands above your head,” the man said. Zuko felt the clench of panic forming in his chest, but he obeyed again, raising his hands barely higher than his head after he turned to face the ice wall. 

His wrists were unbound, but as soon as they were free, the man was forcing them downwards to wrap them in chains behind his back. Zuko felt a lock click shut around the chains as he heard the second chain bearer walk through the cell door. 

The two men exchanged something and suddenly a metal band was being forced around his neck. The second man moved around Zuko while the first fitted the collar. He took out a massive stake with a hook on the end and began to corkscrew it all the way into the earth. 

The collar was snapped shut and the man behind Zuko grabbed him by the back of the head, pushing him downward. With another lock, he connected the collar to the hook, now flush against the ground. Zuko couldn’t lift his head as he glared into the dirt, his eyes only inches away from it. 

The men were talking to each other again, but Zuko couldn’t make out words over the sound of blood rushing in his ears. 

Another chain was connected to his wrists and thrown upwards, through the slats of the cage. One of the men outside of the cage pulled the chain tight then fastened it to the ground with another stake, raising Zuko’s arms steeply behind him as he kneeled. 

The pain was brutal, but bearable, Zuko told himself as he struggled to gain control of his breathing. If he lost control of his breathing, he'd lose control of his inner fire, and if he lost control of his fire, he'd suffer the full wrath of the cold. His vision spun as Zuko thought about nothing but the pattern of his breath. 

He could barely make out the sound of another set of footsteps as they entered the room, but he didn’t mistake the newcomer’s voice as it said from behind, “We were informed you weren’t a firebender, Prince Zuko.”

Zuko’s eyes winced shut. 

“Apparently, we were misinformed,” the voice continued. “Can’t have you firebending your way out of here, can we though.” It wasn’t a question. 

Zuko was entirely unprepared for the vicious slap of ice water thrown onto him from behind. It racked his body with a violent spasm and his teeth clashed together roughly. He huffed involuntarily as his lungs contracted from the cold and felt his inner flame splutter. 

“Refill it,” the voice said gruflly.

Zuko almost cried out in protest, but the sound was suppressed as he bit into his tongue. Blood filled his mouth and another slap of ice water battered his body. His flame was gone and Zuko’s limbs turned icy stiff. He sagged into his restraints. The metal burned icy hot against his skin and tears pricked his eyes. 

He heard a laugh and one of the other men said, “Don’t worry, we’ll be back soon. Maybe you’ll feel like talking.” But they were leaving. Zuko could at least be alone in his indignity as he shook from the cold. 

True to word, the men were back soon. They had been gone long enough that Zuko had stopped shaking and a tiny pinprick of his inner flame had returned to his chest, but upon their arrival, he was immediately doused with another bucket of ice water. 

The men laughed as Zuko’s muscles grew stiff and he strained against the chains. They had their joke and let the water sink into the earth around him for a moment before unlocking the cage to push something towards Zuko. 

It was food, Zuko realized as the guard slid the plate directly beneath his face. Did they really expect him to eat like this?

He didn’t mean to eat, but the scent reached his nostrils prompting a sharp ache in his stomach and Zuko abandoned his dignity. He hadn’t eaten for several days, his boat hadn’t been stocked for the journey it had become, and he barely cared as he lowered his mouth to the plate to eat. 

The men laughed at him and his cheeks flushed as he ate. There wasn’t enough food to fully satiate Zuko’s hunger and all too soon the empty plate was being yanked away from him. A few of them still taunting him, the men locked his cage and left the room again. 

In the quiet of their absence, the sound of blood rushing through Zuko’s ears was deafening. 

There wasn’t a chance he could get comfortable in this position, but he tried anyway, lowering his head to the ground so he could rest it. The food in his stomach had returned a little warmth to his body despite his dampness. With a dedication he hadn't felt in a long time, Zuko focused on his breathing. With the energy from his meal, he was able to regain control of his inner flame. He concentrated on stoking it so that his frozen fingers thawed and the cavities of his chest didn't ache, but didn't let the flame grow enough that it would spill out and become fire he needed to expel. It was excruciating, limiting his breathing so that the guard's wouldn't see any fire, but it was moderately effective, and after a while, Zuko thought he might actually be able to sleep despite his position.

He had barely dozed off when the guards returned, slapping him awake with more ice water, disrupting any control Zuko had over himself. They didn’t laugh as he spluttered this time, the joke apparently growing old. They waited for him to calm and when his breathing quieted, one of the men said, “The chief is ready to speak with you.” 

Zuko spat some water from his mouth but didn’t move as the men unlocked his cage and began to undo his bindings. 

He exhaled as his arms were brought down, though they remained bound to each other. After the collar was unhooked, one of the men grabbed the back of his head and yanked him to his feet. 

Once he was standing, though really his limbs were weak enough that he was mostly relying on support from the guard holding him by the head, a different man grabbed the blindfold still hanging around Zuko’s neck and replaced it over his eyes. 

The men led him out of the cell, through the hallway, Zuko could tell because his shoulders brushed against the narrow ice walls, and into another little room. 

The men removed the blindfold then, allowing Zuko a glimpse of the room, which was just ice walls surrounding a deep, but narrow pool of water, before shoving him into the pool. 

He yelped as his body hit the surface of the cold water. He was fully submerged from the force of the guards’ throw, but quickly surfaced, desperately seeking air. If his hands hadn’t been behind his back, he would have been clawing his way out, but at the moment, all he could do was shiver pathetically as he bobbed in the water. He clenched his jaw and glared at everyone.

The group of guards spread out around the pool, flanking each of its sides. One of the men kneeled by one of the edges as another two men entered the room, a teenage girl following them. 

She was the only one to make eye contact with Zuko. Her eyes were gray, a strange color considering the evident extinction of the air nomads. Zuko thought it cruel that the universe would pair her with a dead soulmate. He broke their eye contact hastily as he noticed shock spreading in her eyes. 

“This is Princess Katara,” the man who had spoken earlier said. “She’s here to make sure we don’t kill you.” 

Zuko winced and reminded himself to try not to get on the Princess’ bad side. 

“Is he a firebender?” she asked the man. 

“Unfortunately, Princess, he is.”

Zuko saw a cloud of anger spread through Princess Katara’s face as she steeled her expression. “Good,” she said, looking directly into Zuko’s eyes, “that’ll make this easier, then.” Zuko’s eyes flickered down and Katara took a deep breath.

She kneeled by the pool and dipped her hand into the water. She exhaled through her mouth. 

Where her breath hit the surface of the water, it turned to ice, forming a sheet over the entire pool with the exception of a small head-sized opening around Zuko’s neck and a small hand-sized opening around Katara’s wrist. 

Under the water, Zuko’s muscles tensed and popped in response to the drop in water temperature. He groaned from the pain and barely noticed when the man by the side of the pool placed his hand firmly around the top of Zuko’s head. 

There were footsteps in the hallway and more voices, but Zuko couldn’t concentrate on them. Two of the men receded from the room and in their place arrived the Water Tribe Chief and a balding man with long gray hair, who Zuko didn’t recognize. 

The chief neared the pool, stopping where he stood after he was facing Zuko. The chief’s accomplice stood behind the chief’s right shoulder. While the chief refused to look at Zuko, the other man shot furtive glances at Zuko’s eyes. 

The chief was looking at Katara. “Is he ready?” he asked.

Katara withdrew her hand from where it rested and said, “Yes, I think the temperature’s right.” She remained kneeling.

“Good.” The chief took a deep breath, gathering his arms across his chest, and turned his head to face Zuko, though his eyes didn’t quite reach. “I suppose we’ll start with the easy one, Prince Zuko. Why are you here?”

Zuko looked down. “My ship was blown off course,” he said sullenly. 

There was pressure on his head then and suddenly he was fully submerged in the ice bath. He flailed wildly but couldn’t force himself to the surface. The guard’s grip blocked him, although Zuko thought he felt another force than the guard pushing him deeper into the water. 

He tried to calm himself, but his lungs already ached and his vision was beginning to spot. As the pressure on his eyes grew by the moment, his eyelids were forced closed, until he could see only through the flicker of his eyelashes. Barely, he saw a flash as the water around him seemed to glow, taking with it Zuko's pain. He felt a rush of relief and the hum of his inner flame, somehow, though there was no time to dwell on the inexplicability of this sudden comfort.

It was muffled by the water, but Zuko thought he heard Katara’s voice and suddenly he was dragged by his hair back to the surface. 

He gasped at the air, its frigidity stinging his lungs, as he worked to find a steady rhythm for his breath. His vision was still swimming, but he could see that the water had reverted to a normal shade, as the chief asked, “Are you sure?”

Zuko's breathing steadied and he tugged at the flame, willing it to spread through his veins. A huff of flame poured from his nostrils as he growled, “Yes.” 

His response earned him another submersion in the pool. Katara instructed the men to pull him up sooner this time, but it didn’t matter. Zuko’s eyes and ears were being stabbed by pressure and when he surfaced, he coughed out more than a mouthful of water. The water was pulsating, glowing white blue, but the pain wasn't seeping from his limbs, at least not quickly.

“Where were you sailing to, then?” the chief’s accomplice asked sternly and Zuko recognized his voice. He had told Zuko last night that they weren't told he was a firebender. The water was still glowing, lapping softly against Zuko's neck; Zuko's thoughts felt clearer, his eyes didn't hurt anymore, but he couldn't remember what he was supposed to say.

Zuko coughed again, but couldn’t supply an answer. He could tell them that he was just sailing, but that wasn’t true and they would know that. He could tell them that he was sailing to the Earth Kingdom, but that might just incriminate him in a different way. He could try to tell them that he was just sailing away from his father, but they wouldn’t believe that. 

He had to pull himself out of his thoughts when the chief said, “Again,” and the water reverted suddenly to its normal shade.

This time, as the man behind him pushed him into the water, Zuko noticed that the chief’s accomplice was moving his arm. The train of thought was lost as Zuko sank deeper into the pool and the pressure to his head choked out any ability to think. 

He was still moving when the water turned bright and they hauled him out again, an involuntary jerk of his muscles. They let him twitch for a while, his head bumping softly against the ice, before the chief said, “I find it suspicious that mere hours after your capture, a Fire Nation fleet was spotted heading North. I suppose you mean to tell us you know nothing about this.” The chief stopped himself as he noted Zuko’s eyes opening to a wide-eyed stare. 

The chief held Zuko’s gaze for a moment before looking back at his accomplice. Zuko flinched. The guard’s grip on Zuko’s hair tightened and Zuko’s chest clenched in preparation for another dunk. 

The chief’s accomplice said, “What were you doing ahead of the invasion, boy? Here to scope us out?” The wrinkles in his forehead deepened as he scowled. He ordered, “Again!” sweeping his arm upwards towards the man behind Zuko. 

“Wait.” The chief swung out his arm and pushed his accomplice back by his chest. “This isn't going to work.” Everyone in the room turned to gape at him. Zuko’s breath caught painfully in his throat.

The chief took a step closer to Zuko, stopping directly at the edge of the pool. “I don't think his father has told him anything,” he said reluctantly. He swept his arm out in front of him, gesturing towards Zuko, while still avoiding looking at Zuko directly. “Those eyes would have branded him a traitor from the moment of his birth. I assumed it was something Ozai could have forgiven, but now-”. He paused and Zuko’s eyes flinched shut, remembering how Azula had told him jeeringly once how his father had tried to kill him the night of his birth. “Now I think at the very least, Ozai wouldn’t have trusted him enough to reveal much information.” 

“Chief Arnook, the prince is obviously a very talented liar, he’s clearly hiding more from us,” the chief’s accomplice protested. 

“Master Pakku,” the chief reassured, “I’m well aware that the boy has more to offer us.” He flicked his eyes from his accomplice, Pakku, and turned his gaze finally to Zuko. Zuko’s eyes creaked open; he was too dizzy to focus on the chief, but he tried to fix his gaze on where he thought the chief probably was. 

“You may not have information on your father’s military plans or his exact intentions, but you can still help me, Prince Zuko,” Chief Arnook said to the boy. “While I’m gone, I want you to think about home. Think about the palace and your father’s throne room. Maybe when I’m back, you’ll feel like telling me where the throne room is in the palace or how many guards are inside. Maybe you’ll remember the fortifications of Caldera City and you can remind me of any safe entrances. Think especially of how the soldiers look, what they’re wearing, what they’re carrying. You might not have been subject to your father’s trust, but I know you’re not blind.” 

Zuko felt a pang in his chest. Of course he knew where the throne room was and how many guards his father had. He knew more too, like the hours his father usually kept and when he was most vulnerable, but he also knew that he couldn’t betray his father. Either the Water Tribe would kill him trying to extract information or his father would kill him when he learned that Zuko had betrayed him to Chief Arnook. Zuko figured his best option was going to be saying as little as possible.

The chief waved and the man released Zuko’s head, which fell limply to the ice sheet surrounding him. The guards, except for one by the entrance, exited the room through the hallway. 

“Princess Katara,” the chief said, turning his attention to her. She rose to her feet in response. “I hope I haven’t made a mistake by including you in this.”

Shock registered on Katara’s face, but she didn’t reply, so the chief said, “Katara please promise me you won’t say a word to Sokka. He isn’t ready for this yet.” 

Katara turned her face away from Chief Arnook to hide the roll of her eyes. Her gaze settled on Zuko, his head slumped against the ice, breathing heavily and still twitching. Something softened in her eyes and she mumbled, “Mhm,” instead of replying. 

The chief inhaled sharply, but didn’t say anything and after a while, left the room while Master Pakku followed close behind. From the hallway, Pakku said, “Leave him in the bath a while longer. Give him some time to think. Call the guards when you think he’s ready to return to his cell.” 

Zuko’s muscles clenched and he tried to steady his mind in preparation for an indefinite soak, but as soon as the chief and Pakku were gone, Katara retracted the ice sheet and called the guards to return Zuko to his cell. 

As the men pulled Zuko from the water, he caught Katara’s eyes. He expected to see hatred, resentment, even anger, but her face was blank, if not resigned. Her eyes weren’t hard. 

The men dragged him back to the cell where he was again locked to the floor with his arms elevated by a chain and left, presumably for the night, judging by the grumble of one guard, "goodnight," as he walked away with the rest of the group.

Long after they left, Zuko was still thinking about Katara, wondering why she didn’t punish him further. He didn't know how to keep her on his side, but he felt like she was the closest thing he had to an ally so far. He thought it had been her, earlier, making the water glow, releasing him from the damage of the cold. She was making sure he didn't die.

When Zuko finally fell into a light sleep hours later, he dreamed about the tundra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah well this chapter really got away from me now. it's a little longer than the first, I know short chapters are the worst. I swear I meant to add Sokka in this chapter, but somehow I just kept putting it off. so I promise Sokka will be in next chapter! I haven't started chapter 3 yet, but if I get a chance after work tomorrow I'll try to put something up


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Zuko woke from his dream to another bucket of ice water. The cold shocked him immediately to alertness. Wide-eyed with panic, his gaze darted around him, but all he could see clearly was the dirt below his face. He felt water drip from his hair down his back and he shivered up his spine. 

He heard the cell door unlock and a plate of food was slid under his mouth. 

Zuko didn’t duck his head, though his eyes glanced around the plate. After he remained motionless for a few minutes, one of the guards chuckled and removed the food. “Suit yourself,” he said.

After the guards left, Zuko’s forehead bowed to the floor where it remained as he calmed his breath. Unconsciously, he felt for the flame of the torch on the wall, connecting to it with his breathing. In a moment, the flickering of the flame synchronized with the timing of his breath. It grew slightly with his exhale and shrank with his inhale. 

His eyes snapped open as he realized what he was doing. 

He broke the connection and instantly he felt a chill run up his fingers, through his arms, and deep into the cavity around his heart. 

He groaned and sank closer to the earth, his chains clattering against themselves as he moved.

It wasn’t long before the guards returned with another bucket of ice water. 

When the men unbound Zuko, he couldn’t stand and they had to carry him out of the cell slung over one of the guards’ shoulders. 

He realized that they were taking him back to the pool, but his useless muscles couldn’t struggle as they slid him into the water. The man who had been carrying him put his hand on Zuko’s head to keep the boy mostly submerged, but Zuko wasn’t moving at all except for the occasional involuntary spasm. 

Zuko’s eyes were on the entrance to the room and it wasn't long before he was watching as Master Pakku arrived, trailed by three guards. 

Pakku’s forehead creases deepened as he scanned the room. Angrily, he spun around and addressed one of the guards. “Where is Princess Katara?”

Zuko's cloudy brain registered shock. They wouldn’t start without her, Zuko assured himself to stave off panic. Katara was the one making sure he wouldn’t die. 

One by one, the guards affirmed that they didn’t know the princess’ location and Pakku began to grumble furiously into his beard while pacing the room. 

Zuko made himself dizzy trying to follow Pakku’s movement. He felt his teeth begin to chatter as the cold encompassed his organs and clenched his throat. 

Finally, Pakku halted. He composed himself with a deep inhale and began to say, “I suppose she means for us to proceed without her,” when a shout from the hallway cut him off. 

Katara strode into the room with wide eyes. The short hairs at her hair line were haloed around her face, making her look like she’d just ran through the wind. “It wasn’t me. I didn’t say anything,” she said, slightly out of breath, speaking directly to Pakku. 

Pakku narrowed his eyes at her and opened his mouth to speak when he was again interrupted by a shout from the hallway. Someone was yelling, “Where is he?”

Pakku’s eyes widened in surprise and he looked over Katara’s head towards the entrance to the room. 

Zuko heard a thud from the hall, like the sound of a body being pushed into a wall, before two guards hastily backed up into the room giving the newcomer a wide berth. 

Someone burst into the room then, yelling incoherently and brandishing a blue boomerang at both of the guards. They leapt back quickly. 

The first thing Zuko noticed about this stranger was his hair. It was startlingly white and pulled into an elaborate ponytail. A wolf tail, Zuko thought the style was called, a warrior’s hairstyle, though he figured most warriors wouldn’t include two braids framing their face and another braid running through the middle. 

The stranger made his way into the room and Zuko was mesmerized by his hair. 

The yell caught suddenly in the stranger’s throat and he emitted a soft gasp, forcing Zuko out of his trance. The stranger was looking at him. 

His eyes were the second thing Zuko noticed. 

Shining gold eyes peered into guarded blue eyes as the boys held each other’s gaze. 

Their moment lasted for only a second before the stranger was yelling again. “What are you doing to him?” he directed to Pakku. 

Pakku moved then, positioning himself between Zuko and his soulmate. He was glaring at Katara as he said to the stranger, “We’re interrogating him, Prince Sokka.”

“I told you I didn’t tell him!” Katara interjected. She turned her head to Zuko, then back at Pakku. “I didn’t think this was right either, though.”

This was Prince Sokka, Zuko thought as he began to gasp from the cold. His legs flailed beneath him. 

Sokka growled and moved menacingly towards Pakku. 

Pakku didn’t flinch. When Sokka neared, Pakku raised an arm instinctually to block the boy, his hand slamming firmly against Sokka’s chest. 

A collective gasp from the guards and Pakku blanched. Sokka seethed. “Don’t touch me,” he hissed and immediately, Master Pakku withdrew his arm, sinking into a stiff bow as he backed away, muttering an apology into his beard as he went. 

Sokka strode towards the pool and the man holding Zuko fled, releasing the boy’s head. His neck was limp and in an instant, his face was submerged in the pool. 

Sokka sheathed his boomerang. There was the splash of another body in the water that Zuko felt rather than saw, and its force pushed him lightly against the pool wall. Without warning, he felt an arm wrap tightly around his torso from behind. 

Sokka pulled Zuko from the pool, supporting Zuko's weight once they were both standing. One of Sokka’s arms remained around Zuko’s waist as he shoved a finger towards Pakku. “If it’s information you want, you’ll have me talk to him,” Sokka said. “If any of you bother me tonight-”. He spluttered incoherently for a moment before settling on, “I’ll curse all of you!”

Zuko was confused. The blood rushing through his head was pounding against his temples and making it hard for him to follow the conversation. He was just grateful for the support from Sokka that was keeping him upright. 

Master Pakku struggled with his words as he said, “He’s dangerous, Prince Sokka. He could hurt you.”

Zuko felt Sokka’s body tense. The finger he had been pointing curled into a fist as he shouted, “I disagree.”

Zuko pressed his eyes shut tightly and stumbled a step forward as Sokka began to move them. “Move out of my way,” Sokka commanded and everyone did, Pakku grumbling into his beard again as he moved back. 

As Sokka and Zuko passed Katara, she said softly, “Sokka-”. 

He cut her off. “Are you going to try to stop me, Katara?”

She took a startled step back and Zuko cracked open his eyelids. He watched Katara’s eyes fill with emotion as she shifted her gaze back and forth from Sokka to Zuko. She shook her head solemnly. 

Sokka held her stare for a moment longer before he inhaled steeply through his nose and said, “Good.”

Without another word, Sokka led Zuko gently out of the room, into the hall, and back into the cell room. 

Zuko panicked for a moment as he entertained a vision of Sokka throwing him back into the cell and restraining him, but Sokka just led them confidently past the cell to the ice wall. Zuko couldn’t see the seam of a door, but somehow Sokka found one, pushing the ice back to reveal another hallway. 

Zuko barely registered anything as Sokka led them through this hallway which soon opened up to the stairs Zuko had been dragged down his first day here. 

They began to climb the stairs, Sokka half-leading half-carrying Zuko as they hiked out of the prison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is like half of what I had planned for chapter 3, work was kinda exhausting but I still wanted to post something tonight. I'll finish what I had planned for it and give you guys a nice long chapter 4 sometime over the weekend;. thank you all for reading and commenting and kudosing on the last couple chapters! I hope you enjoyed this little chapter and want to see more still!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I changed the title! new title is from the song Downward by Ripe, which for some reason ALWAYS makes me think of this fic, and I didn't really like the old title anyway

Sokka supported Zuko’s weight all the way up the prison stairs, through the winding halls of the palace, up another set of stairs, and finally into a large living chamber with a thick ice door.

Zuko groaned softly as the warm air of the room hit his skin. Though the room was constructed of ice, about a dozen tapestries depicting epic tundra battles hung on the walls, softening the chill. The floor was similarly covered by a thick wool rug, dyed a deep blue, though it was beginning to fade. 

Zuko’s feet shuffled over the rug as Sokka urged him further into the room. Zuko was led to its center, where a wooden table sat surrounded by three wooden chairs. He was placed gently onto one of the chairs. A rush of air escaped his lungs as he sat properly for the first time in what must be days. 

Sokka moved behind him and Zuko’s eyes couldn’t reach the boy anymore. Sokka grumbled something incoherent and Zuko felt Sokka’s hands grasp the chains binding his arms together behind his back. Sokka clenched the chains tightly in his hand and shook them once. When he released them, he did so with a long sigh before saying, “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back, okay?”

Zuko tried to straighten his head. All he could manage in response was another groan. 

Sokka’s hand settled lightly on Zuko’s head, startling both boys, and he yanked it back quickly. “Just don’t move,” he said limply as he exited the room. 

Zuko listened to Sokka’s footsteps recede as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The hardness of the seat was a painful pressure on his sore limbs.

His eyes scanned the room. There was a fireplace in one of the walls, though it was unlit, Zuko noticed as his body let out an involuntary shiver. 

There was a set of comfortable looking armchairs in front of the fireplace and several shelves of books on the wall next to it. Zuko tried to imagine Sokka sitting by the fire, reading a novel late at night, but he noticed that the bookshelves were coated with a layer of dust and Zuko abandoned the image. 

Against the wall opposite the fireplace was a large bed, dressed with layers of thick blue quilts and animal pelts, and a massive wardrobe in the corner, one of its doors open to reveal a selection of blue and white parkas. A multitude of pillows littered the bed and a few had fallen onto the floor around it. On either side of the bed were elaborate candelabras, black metal curving elegantly from the floor to support 3 candles. These were lit, though they didn't provide the room with much warmth. 

Zuko shivered again and turned his attention forward, to the wall opposite the door. There was a break in the tapestries, revealing a large window forged into the wall. Through it, Zuko could see the waxing moon. The generous sill in front of the window was covered with furs, creating a sitting nook where someone could gaze out over the city. 

An image of Sokka reclining by the window developed in Zuko’s mind, but he couldn’t imagine what Sokka would do while he sat. Maybe he would sharpen his boomerang or practice yelling at Pakku. 

Zuko’s eyes stung. Had that really happened? He could clearly remember Katara’s arrival to the torture room earlier, but when he tried to remember Sokka’s entrance, all he could visualize was the way the water had looked. Sokka had rescued him, Zuko knew that, but had Sokka really threatened Master Pakku? 

Zuko ran his tongue over his teeth and his jaw clenched. He decided that he must have been hallucinating when Sokka arrived. Had Sokka even arrived? Panic bubbled in Zuko then as he considered that this might just be a different kind of torture. They let him think that he was being released from the prison so that he would drop his guard and then when Sokka returned, if it even was Sokka after all, he would be bringing along the next punishment. 

Zuko could remember the way Sokka’s gold eyes shone in the candlelight when they had first made eye contact. This memory gave him some solace until the thought arose that he could’ve hallucinated Sokka’s gold eyes in the first place. A desperate mind sees what it wants to see, Zuko reminded himself. 

He planted his feet on top of the chair, sliding his knees into his chest, and shivered again. 

He couldn’t see the door from where he sat but he didn’t attempt to turn his body. Instead he strained his ears, listening deep into the silence of the hallway, trying to prepare himself for when the footsteps returned. 

Zuko’s mind raced as he waited, but it had begun to clear. His thoughts weren’t as fogged by the pain and cold as they were earlier, though Zuko knew this lucidity would only last until they soaked him with ice water again. 

Eventually, Zuko’s ears picked up the slap of feet against ice coming from deep within the hallway and he stiffened while dropping his feet back to the floor. 

He could only make out a single set of footsteps, which calmed his mind a little, but the footsteps were slow and heavy; heavier than Zuko remembered Sokka’s footsteps being when he left. Zuko’s breath was becoming difficult to control. He tried to still his panting but his breath only became strangled rather than calm. 

“I’m back!” Sokka’s voice sung from the entrance to the room. He moved towards the table and Zuko craned his next around to watch. 

Zuko blinked in surprise. 

Sokka was carrying a heavy tray bearing plates of food and pitchers of drink. There was also a keyring with a single key attached to his hip. Zuko blinked furiously a few more times. He had just convinced himself that Sokka was a figment of his delusion, but here the boy was, white hair and gold eyes. The braids framing his face bounced as he leaned over to place the tray on the table. Steam was rising from the plates and two of the pitchers. 

Sokka finished placing the tray and said, “I hope you’re hungry,” as he moved towards the fireplace to light a fire for them. 

Zuko didn’t want to reveal his weakness to Sokka, but his traitorous stomach betrayed him by growling loudly. Zuko hung his head to hide the flush of his cheeks. 

The fire roared to life and Zuko gasped as a wave of heat filled the room, wrapping around his body comfortably. Sokka was smiling at him when Zuko raised his head. He ducked it again immediately. 

Sokka made a soft sound against his teeth and grabbed the keyring in his hand. 

He walked behind Zuko and Zuko grew even stiffer, his already strained muscles crackling as he tensed more. 

Zuko felt Sokka’s hands move to the chains and he held his breath as Sokka inserted the key. 

When the chains fell from his wrists, he didn’t move his arms, only stared ahead. Sokka hesitated behind him for a moment, then exhaled softly and moved around the table to Zuko’s side. 

He tried to catch Zuko’s eyes, but Zuko was staring deliberately past him, avoiding actual eye contact. 

Sokka exhaled again and he shifted his feet. His eyes kept drifting to the metal collar around Zuko's neck and eventually he asked, "Mind if I?" gesturing to the collar with the key. 

Zuko's eyes narrowed, but he nodded his consent. 

Sokka was quick. Soon Zuko was rubbing his neck while Sokka threw the metal callously to the ground. “Are you in a lot of pain?”, he asked. 

”No,” was the raspy reply. 

Sokka looked like he didn't believe Zuko. He stared at him for a moment longer before his eyes flashed downwards to the tray and he tossed the key down to the table. He outdrew his arms and grabbed one of the steaming pitchers, pouring the fluid expertly into two cups that he procured from the folds of his clothing. 

The cups were still steaming when Sokka pushed one towards Zuko. 

The fragrance of ginseng hit Zuko’s nostrils and he realized that the cup was holding tea. 

“You’ll feel better once you’ve drank a little,” Sokka said gently. 

Zuko nodded mutely. His hands were free, nothing was stopping him, but he hesitated before grasping the cup in his grip. The heat from the tea travelled through the cup and into Zuko’s fingers as he held it. 

He quickly glanced at Sokka, who was smiling, before taking a single cautious sip. The warm tea travelled down his throat, warming every inch of his body from inside as it made contact. It settled in his empty stomach, which comforted Zuko greatly. He began to gulp the tea down, realizing that despite all of the water he had been assaulted with, he was actually parched. A few drops of tea worked their way over his chin and down his throat as he hastily drained the cup. 

Sokka chuckled softly before bringing his own cup to his lips to drink. 

Zuko’s eyes peered over the top of his cup to watch Sokka as he took a single sip of his own tea before setting its cup back down on the table. Zuko kept his cup pressed to his face and watched as Sokka cleared his throat. Sokka said, “Feel a little warmer?” 

Zuko nodded, but in doing so, dislodged some of the water still in his hair, causing it to drip down his neck. He shivered, not meaning to, and tried to meet Sokka’s eyes.

He made it as far as Sokka’s chin before realizing that the Water Tribe Prince was also dripping water. 

Sokka nodded knowingly and began to walk away from the table. “Finish your tea,” he said as he walked toward the wardrobe. 

Zuko set his empty cup on the table to watch better as Sokka grabbed several outfits from their hangers. The prince seemed to test the material of each with his fingers before eventually swinging a few over his shoulder and returning to Zuko’s side. 

“Here,” Sokka said as he offered the parkas to Zuko. “You’re gonna keep getting colder if you stay in wet clothes.”

Zuko accepted Sokka’s offering with wide eyes. Sokka nodded approvingly and walked back to the wardrobe. 

As Sokka tugged his own tunic over his head, facing the wardrobe, Zuko realized with a start that Sokka wasn’t going to leave the room for them to undress. 

Zuko leapt from his chair, face burning red, and spun his back towards Sokka. He threw his damp clothes to the floor as quickly as he could, managing to tear the collar of his shirt in the process. He yanked the dry pants on, the rough fabric abrasive enough against his raw skin to draw hot tears to his eyes. Then he picked one of Sokka’s parkas at random from the pile he had been handed and threw it over his head. His burning ears stung as the parka’s collar brushed over them. 

He still felt a chill once the first parka was covering his body, so he threw the second one on top of it. Then, as an afterthought, he threw the third one on over that. It was a little hard to bend his elbows now, but as Zuko turned around, he noted happily that he wasn’t shivering anymore. 

Sokka was still tugging a parka over his head when Zuko faced him. Sokka had already put on a dry tunic and pants underneath, but Zuko still felt shame as he looked at Sokka.

Zuko hung his head and returned to his seat by the table. He waited for Sokka to join him. 

When Sokka came back to the table, he sat in the seat across from Zuko and reached for one of the plates of food. 

“This will help, too,” Sokka was saying as he set the plate in front of Zuko. Sokka grabbed a set of utensils and held it out across the table. 

Zuko’s eyes narrowed as he reluctantly stretched his own arm out and, careful to avoid actually touching or looking at Sokka directly, snatched the utensils from him.

His eyes travelled to the plate of food in front of him. He eyed it warily, but the smell was enough to make him salivate and he couldn’t stop himself from beginning to eat. 

Sokka made a quiet sound like a laugh and Zuko’s ears immediately burned again. His eyes quickly flew to Sokka and he realized that Sokka was laughing about Zuko’s inability to bend his elbows. “You look like a penguin seal,” Sokka joked. 

Zuko didn’t say anything, but he resumed eating; the warm feeling in his stomach from the steaming food was too good for him to stop. 

Sokka watched Zuko for a moment before he seemed satisfied with what he saw. He made an approving “Mm,” then collected a plate of food for himself. 

As he ate, Sokka continued to shoot glances at Zuko, though he failed to meet Zuko’s eyes. 

Eventually, Sokka finished his meal, though Zuko continued to eat the last of his own food. Sokka’s eyes settled on Zuko. 

The back of Zuko’s neck prickled as Sokka’s eyes bored into him, but he stubbornly stared at his food instead of looking up at the other boy. 

The silence was beginning to make Sokka uncomfortable. He tapped his feet in a rhythm against the floor, still staring at Zuko.

Sokka finished the pattern he was creating with a flourish and waited expectantly for a response from Zuko. 

Nothing.

Sokka cleared his throat and suddenly broke the silence, saying, “I have one too, you know.”

Zuko hesitated, then tore his eyes from the plate and looked to Sokka. Their eyes met, but not really, Zuko realized. Sokka wasn’t looking at Zuko’s eyes, he was looking at the scar of Zuko’s left eye and ear. 

Zuko’s eyes widened, his left more closed than the right. 

Sokka was lifting up his shirts, revealing a nasty scar across his chest. 

The breath caught in Zuko’s throat and he asked, “What happened?” as Sokka lowered his clothing.

Sokka turned his head, absently looking across the room, recovering his memories. “It was a long time ago,” he began. 

Zuko settled back in his chair, food and appetite forgotten for a moment. 

Sokka said, “I wasn’t born here, you know.” Zuko didn’t know, so he shook his head. Sokka didn’t see, but he explained anyway. “I was born to the chief of the southern water tribe, Hakoda, and my mother was Kya. I was their first, although I didn’t get any time to enjoy being an only child. My sister, Katara, you’ve met her, she was born soon after.” Sokka paused himself to chuckle lightly. “She was born with the gift of waterbending and I got the gift of an ashmaker’s eyes.” If Zuko stiffened then, Sokka didn’t notice, because he continued without a pause. “I didn’t really know what it meant. I just knew that the warriors of my village were always wary of me. Didn’t want to be left alone with me for too long. Didn’t want to train me or get to know me, even.” 

Sokka looked over at Zuko then and Zuko tried to look sympathetic. He knew exactly how the Water Tribe Prince must have felt as a child, after all. It had been much the same for him. 

“They never told me why, though. I barely knew anything about the war even. Until-”. He cut himself off. 

Zuko let the silence stay for a moment before he urged, “Until what?”. His voice was barely a whisper.

Sokka broke eye contact and swallowed painfully. “The Fire Nation had heard rumors somehow about a waterbender being born in the South Pole.” Zuko’s gut turned and he suddenly felt sick. Sokka continued, “It took them a long time to find us. Katara and I were kids still by the time they reached our village, but we were old enough to know what was happening when the black snow began to fall. Our father was with the other warriors, trying to drive off the attack. He had left Katara and I together. He told us not to leave each other’s side. I was supposed to keep her safe.”

Sokka looked back at Zuko. “It was actually Katara who left,” he said. “She was afraid and so was I, but she knew something I didn’t, I guess, because she was the one to run back to our home. To where our mother had already been discovered.” Zuko sucked air in sharply through his teeth. He felt fear, though he didn’t know why. Sokka nodded slowly. “She sacrificed herself. Our mother for Katara. She told the man that she was the waterbender he was looking for. She expected him to take her prisoner.” Sokka paused. “But they weren’t taking prisoners that day.” His voice was heavy with emotion, but it wasn’t shaking. 

Zuko felt tears prick the corners of his eyes. He knew what it was like to lose a mother. He wanted to reach his arm out to touch Sokka, to comfort him somehow, but Zuko couldn’t bring himself to move. 

Sokka collected his thoughts before resuming. “It was for the best that Katara left. We didn’t have enough men to hold off the invasion and Fire Nation soldiers were already in the village. I wasn’t trying to hide. I didn’t know I was supposed to. I was just sitting in plain sight when the soldiers started melting our village. When they saw me, they didn’t hesitate.” Sokka’s hand went to his chest, touching the scar over his layers of clothes. “I don’t know if it was the eyes or something else, but they wanted to kill me.” His hand clenched his clothes over the scar. “They almost did.”

“How did you survive?” Zuko managed to choke out. 

Sokka sighs. “My father says he had a vision. Right after he found our mother’s body, he swears he had a vision of me dying in the snow while the moon spirit told him to take me to the North Pole.” 

Zuko’s mouth opened to gape at this a little and Sokka chuckled in response. “I know, it sounds crazy. But I was dying and my father didn’t want to lose me too, so he took our family here. Brought me to the spirit oasis. He says that as he held me up in the moonlight and prayed, the moonbeams came down to wrap me in light. The spirits brought me back to life in his arms that night. After that, Chief Arnook and my father thought it would be safer for me to stay here and Katara decided to stay too.”

“So, your hair?” Zuko asked lamely after finding that he didn’t know what else to say. 

“Happened the same night the spirits touched me,” Sokka said, absentmindedly tugging on one of his white braids. “Nobody’s really sure why the spirits saved me that night or if they gave me any special powers. Chief Arnook says that I must be very important to the moon spirit.” 

“Special powers?” Zuko was taken aback. He suddenly remembered how Sokka had threatened to curse the men earlier. 

Sokka laughed, a real laugh this time, not a chuckle like earlier. “Don’t worry. I don’t have any special powers. At least not that I know of.” He laughed again. “Everyone here treats me like I do, though, just in case. I’ve tried explaining to them that I’m sure I don’t, but they really don’t believe me.” 

Zuko smiled at this and Sokka smiled back at him. The two shared a silence for a moment before Sokka said awkwardly, “Yours looks like it happened a long time ago, too.” 

Zuko’s hand subconsciously moved to his ear, feeling its disfigurement. “Three years ago,” he replied.

Sokka gulped. He said, “Oh,” and then, “What happened?”

“A training accident.” He shot the answer back too quickly. It was something he’d clearly rehearsed. Sokka stared at him for a moment, not blinking, before Zuko’s head bowed. He shook his head, saying, “No. That wasn’t what happened.”

Sokka arched an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. 

Zuko’s head hung even lower as he said, “It was my fault. I-”. He paused, trying to locate the right words. “I disrespected a general in my father’s court. I was immediately-”. He inhaled sharply. “Reminded of my place.”

Sokka didn’t say anything and Zuko was desperate to fill the silence so he said rapidly, “I shouldn’t have been in the court in the first place. I shouldn’t have even asked to go. My father’s war plans were never my business. I had no right to interfere.” Zuko knew he was speaking too fast and cursed his nerves.

“What did you do to disrespect the general?” Sokka asked suddenly. 

Zuko gulped. His eyes darted across the floor. “I spoke out against a plan. Right there, to the general’s face.” He almost bit his tongue as the words escaped. Instead, his eyes found Sokka’s. 

Sokka was staring at him with wide eyes. They shone, threatening tears. “So you were burned for having an opinion?” Sokka asked, his words heavy with emotion. 

Zuko hung his head again and didn’t reply. 

“Is that why you left the Fire Nation?” Sokka asked. 

Zuko shook his head. “No, not really.”

Sokka tried unsuccessfully to catch Zuko’s eyes, but he didn’t say anything. He hoped his silence would prompt more of an explanation from Zuko. 

It worked. Zuko shifted under the weight of the silence and eventually said, “It would have been worse for me to stay. I thought-”. He choked on the words, but steadied himself and continued, “I thought my father was being merciful by letting me stay, but he wasn’t. After I healed, he kept me under constant watch. He had me training constantly, but I wasn’t getting better. He said so himself. So he had my teachers push me harder and harder.” Zuko winced his eyes shut as he remembered the fire whip of his instructor biting into his shoulders with each botched form or lackluster result. He had known then that he would never live up to his father’s expectations or his sister’s excellence, but his instructors had been relentless, never accepting anything less than perfection. “I thought he wanted me to prove myself to him.” 

“Was that what he wanted?” Sokka asked. 

“No,” Zuko said bitterly, “He wanted me to suffer.” 

Sokka inhaled sharply. After some consideration, in a softer voice, Zuko added, “I took my chance one night after a festival when all the palace guards seemed a little drunk. Slipped out of the window. No one stopped me, so I ran to the docks and stole a boat.” He looked Sokka in the eye then. “I swear I didn’t mean to come here, my boat was blown off course. I wasn’t trying to make trouble. I just wanted to find a place I’d be safe for a little while.”

Sokka clicked his tongue against his teeth and stretched his hand across the table. He laid it on top of Zuko’s which was resting by his forgotten plate. Zuko was startled but Sokka’s face was calm as he said, “I believe you.” He retracted his hand and reached for one of the untouched pitchers, saying, “I’m glad you're here, though.” He grabbed Zuko’s cup and filled it with a dark red liquid from the pitcher before pushing it back across the table. “I’m gonna figure this out for us,” he mumbled as he filled his own cup with the same liquid. 

Once his cup had been filled, Sokka lifted it towards Zuko in a sort of cheer and drank, making a sour face as the liquid hit his tongue. 

Zuko looked down at the liquid. The cup was slightly warm in his palm as he lifted it to his mouth to drink. He was surprised, but grateful, when he tasted alcohol. 

Sokka and Zuko finished their drinks and Sokka poured them another round. They drank this too and Sokka poured a third round. By the time Zuko had finished his third cup, the alcohol had settled nicely, leaving his mind and body feeling comfortably fuzzy. 

As Sokka poured a fourth round, he asked, “Are you finished eating?” He gestured to the food that remained in front of Zuko. 

Zuko followed the gesture with his eyes and though the pang of hunger was by now absent from his stomach, he gladly resumed his meal, alternating sips of the warm alcohol with bites of food.

Sokka was kind enough not to say anything until Zuko had finished his meal, when he asked, “Should we go to bed? Are you tired?”

By now the alcohol was resting heavily in Zuko’s head, pressuring his eyelids closed. He forced his eyelids to remain open, holding on desperately to alertness. He nodded in response to Sokka’s question, though. He was tired, but he didn’t know where Sokka intended for him to sleep. Although at this point, the rug on the floor looked pretty comfortable to Zuko. 

Sokka nodded and slid his chair away from the table to stand up. He walked over to the fire and threw a few logs in. 

Without thinking, Zuko removed two of the three parkas he was wearing. The temperature of the room was perfect. The heat was enough to soften some of the tension in Zuko’s limbs and he knew that if he stayed sitting much longer, he would without a doubt fall asleep in the chair. 

Sokka crossed the room to the bed, which he threw himself on top of. He slid himself to a sitting position at the top left of the bed and leaned against its headboard as he looked at Zuko expectantly. 

Zuko looked back, puzzled. 

Sokka rolled his eyes and patted the empty space on the bed next to him without much force. “I think you’ll be more comfortable if you sleep over here,” he said, a hint of laughter in his voice. 

Zuko flushed but he felt his legs obey, lifting him out of the chair and walking him towards the bed. Sokka’s bed, Zuko thought. 

Gold eyes stared at him as Zuko slowly crawled across the bed. Zuko’s limbs gave out as his head reached a pillow and his body crumpled to the mattress. He was facing Sokka, who continued to stare at him, even as Sokka began to lower himself to the bed. 

As Sokka’s head hit the pillow next to Zuko, Zuko broke their eye contact by turning to his scarred side with a groan. He forced his face into the pillow to muffle the next few groans as he tried to find a position that wasn’t painful. 

He must have fallen asleep, because when he opened his eyes again and turned away from the pillow, the fire had gone out, casting a deep darkness over the room. Zuko shivered and tried to bury his body under the blankets he and Sokka had fallen asleep on top of. Without the heat of the fire to keep it at bay, Zuko’s chill had returned, aching his bones. 

After fighting with the blankets for a while, Zuko realized he wasn’t going to be able to get under them without disturbing Sokka. He craned his neck for a moment, trying to catch a glimpse of Sokka, hoping the boy was still asleep. Zuko’s eyes met the image of the sleeping prince and he felt relief. Deciding not to push his luck any further, Zuko gave up on the blankets. 

He turned his face back around and rested it again on the pillow. He drew his knees up to his chest and hugged them tightly, his body still shaking slightly from the cold. He begged silently for sleep. 

After Zuko had been shaking for a while, Sokka finally stirred, mumbling groggily. Zuko immediately stilled, forcing his muscles into complacency. He bit down tightly to keep his teeth from chattering. 

He felt Sokka move and suddenly, he felt the warm pressure of Sokka’s arm across his waist. Sokka’s arm pressed into Zuko’s chest and he dragged himself closer. His forehead settled at the nape of Zuko’s neck and he exhaled sleepily. 

The warmth of Sokka’s breath sent a shiver down Zuko’s spine, but he wasn’t cold anymore. 

He allowed his legs to slide away from his chest, placing them against Sokka’s. 

Sokka mumbled something and relaxed his body to Zuko’s, allowing his heat to transfer to the other boy. He exhaled deeply again and by his breathing, Zuko knew he was asleep. 

Zuko’s chest was tight as he tried not to think about how good this felt. But he was warm again and Sokka’s presence was somehow one of the most comforting things Zuko had ever experienced. Soon, his breathing synchronized to Sokka’s and his aching mind had succumbed to a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woohoo for the longest chapter yet! I know I said I was gonna get this to y'all over the weekend, but I decided to skip work today and write instead! I'm not sure when I'll be able to get another chapter for you guys, so consider this extra long chapter my advance apology in case I can't write for a couple days. Thanks for sticking with me!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> before we jump into the good stuff, I just want to say that even though I'm horribly awkward at responding to comments, to all of you that take the time to leave me nice messages (especially those of you who've been with me since chapter 1 and keep commenting each chapter), I love you dearly ❤️ you're by far the best inspiration I've ever had to write a piece and I wanna do y'all justice

The instant that the sun peeked its first sliver over the horizon, Zuko awoke. Even though the room was still dark and there was no way he could see the sun from Sokka’s window, he felt its presence somehow. 

He was breathing heavily as he sat up suddenly, Sokka’s arm still around his waist. 

With a start, Zuko realized that he was warm. Actually, hot. His skin had heated to the point where he was about to burn Sokka’s bare arm where the sleeve of his parka had pulled up to his elbow during the night. 

Head still heavy from sleep, or maybe the alcohol they drank last night, Zuko pushed himself away from Sokka. He landed on the floor next to the bed with a yelp. Quickly, he folded himself against the wall, knees to his chest. 

Zuko’s sudden movement, or maybe the noise he made falling, woke Sokka. Zuko didn’t have time to feel guilty about this though. The same instant that Sokka sprung awake, an angry knock pummeled the door. 

Zuko jumped with each bang. 

Sokka looked irritated and was growing more irritated by the second. 

“It’s still night-time,” he yelled at the door as he jumped from the bed and strode towards the wardrobe. He retrieved his boomerang from the pile of last night’s damp clothes that were now frozen stiff.

He marched to the door, boomerang cocked behind him. He threw open the door with a huff and repeated, “It’s night-time!”

“The sun just rose, Prince Sokka,” was the response. Zuko flinched, recognizing Chief Arnook’s voice. 

Sokka merely scowled in return. He said, “And my room’s still dark.” 

The chief sounded impatient as he replied, “Where is the prisoner?”

Sokka didn’t try to stop the chief as the man entered the room, but he didn’t lower his boomerang as he backed up to give the chief space. 

The chief entered first, but was closely followed by Master Pakku and a handful of armed guards. Sokka had to back up nearly to the window to give them all room. He glared at the chief as the men looked around.

Master Pakku spotted Zuko first. Confidently, he strode through the room to where the boy was huddled on the floor, still panting. Once he reached Zuko, Pakku grabbed the boy by the collar of his parka and dragged him to his feet. 

Gold eyes glinted and Sokka sprung forward, brandishing the boomerang towards Pakku and the nearest guard. “Take your hands off of him,” he growled in a surprisingly calm tone. 

Pakku’s grip loosened, but he made eye contact with the chief, who was shaking his head angrily, and didn’t release Zuko. 

Sokka huffed and marched directly towards the chief, stopping mere inches from the man, boomerang still cocked behind him. “Chief Arnook,” he said, “you’re making a mistake.”

Something flashed across the chief’s eyes then. Zuko wondered if the look was fear.

Sokka took another step forward and reluctantly, the chief took a step back. “Prince Sokka, use your judgement. The Fire Prince is dangerous,” he said. 

“Get out of my room,” Sokka yelled to the chief’s face, prompting the man to take another step backwards. “Until the sun hits my room, it’s night time. Spirits, I already told you I don’t want to be bothered until morning.” He directed this to Pakku, whose grip on Zuko loosened further. 

The chief looked shocked, but no one was leaving the room, so Sokka slashed his boomerang through the air and shouted, “Tui and La!” 

Pakku blanched and pushed Zuko away from him as Sokka addressed the moon and ocean spirits directly. The soldiers immediately fled the room. Pakku alternated a bow between Sokka and Chief Arnook as he followed the soldiers’ retreat. 

Chief Arnook was fuming as he said, “I don’t want to see you burned, Sokka.” 

Sokka huffed a laugh. “As if he could burn me,” he said, then brandished his boomerang at the chief again. Zuko’s eyes narrowed. What did Sokka mean by that? Sokka knew that Zuko was a firebender, right? Zuko remembered that the guards had apparently been informed that he was a non-bender, but someone must have told Sokka the truth. Katara, probably. She must’ve, Zuko assured himself. 

The chief sighed deeply, but offered a slight bow to Sokka and left the room saying, “We’ll be back soon. Keep an eye on him.”

Sokka kept his grip on the boomerang until Chief Arnook had finally left the room, at which point he tossed it to the floor and rushed to Zuko’s side. 

When he reached where Zuko was standing half-leaning against the wall, Sokka relaxed and gently led Zuko to a sitting position on the side of the bed. “I didn’t buy us much time,” he said sadly. “We have to get out of here.”

Zuko was shocked. “What?”

Sokka just smiled in response and walked to the wardrobe, where he procured two pairs of gloves and two pairs of boots. 

He returned to Zuko to give him a pair of each. Zuko didn’t accept the gift. “It’s not a good idea to anger the chief,” he said warily. 

Sokka sighed and tossed the boots to the floor at Zuko’s feet. The gloves landed on the bed. Sokka leaned forward then and placed his hands firmly around Zuko’s shoulders. Zuko’s ears reddened. 

Sokka said sternly, “Look, it seems like things are a little different in the Fire Nation, but nothing’s going to happen to me here. Which means, as long as you stick with me, nothing’s gonna happen to you, either, got it?” 

Zuko’s eyes fell to the boots on the floor. Sokka urged, “You’re gonna need those where we’re going,” as he stood up to grab his own boots. 

“Where do you expect us to go?” Zuko asked, but reluctantly began to lace the shoes onto his feet. 

Sokka seemed pleased and placed his feet into his boots, saying, “To a friend. Maybe a few friends if we’re lucky.” 

“And how do you expect us to get a foot outside of your room?” Zuko replied. 

Sokka took his time to respond. Only after he had finished lacing both boots, tugged each glove over his hand, and adjusted his hair to repin the flyaways that had developed during the night, he said with a grin, “I have that covered, too.” He crossed the room to the window sill and pushed on the glass. It seemed to require a lot of pressure, but eventually it moved, sliding upwards from the bottom. 

Zuko grabbed the gloves next to him and walked towards the window. Sokka’s arm remained outstretched, supporting the outrageous weight of the glass, while Zuko craned his head to look down. 

As he hung his head from the window frame, cold wind stung his cheeks and eyes. He blinked into the chill a few times, gauging the distance of the ground, then rapidly yanked his head back inside the room. 

They weren’t as high up as he had suspected. Zuko figured that the distance to the ground was likely something he could jump, but he said, “You’re serious?” 

Sokka nodded and moved back inside as well, releasing the window to a close. “Grab those extra parkas, you’re gonna be cold,” he said with a nod towards the clothes that Zuko had abandoned near the table last night. 

Zuko shrugged and met Sokka’s eyes. “This is insane,” he said, but he slipped the gloves over his hands. 

Sokka smiled as Zuko retrieved the parkas. 

Zuko shook his head and turned his back to Sokka, drawing the coats over his clothes. 

He heard movement behind him and turned around to see Sokka retrieving a makeshift rope from the wardrobe. It looked like it was constructed of a series of bedsheets tied to each other at the corner. 

“You do this often, then?” Zuko asked reluctantly. 

Sokka smiled again and said, “Sometimes, a guy just wants to go somewhere and he doesn’t want every single person to know exactly where that somewhere is, you know?”

“Mm,” Zuko said as he nodded.

Sokka walked back towards the window and knotted the rope around a heavy block of ice he slid directly out of the wall. 

Zuko was fascinated, but concerned. The prince’s plan was absurd, he thought. Even if they managed to scale the palace wall without being seen, someone was certain to spot them once they were outside. This couldn’t end well, Zuko mused with a slight grimace. 

“Come on,” Sokka sang. “We have to get moving.”

Zuko swallowed around an emerging lump in his throat but the idea of disappointing Sokka was somehow worse than the idea of being spotted trying to escape. He couldn’t rationalize this. 

His face had settled into a sort of puzzled scowl by the time his feet began to move with no help from his mind, leading him towards Sokka and deciding the matter. 

Sokka smiled wide as Zuko neared and he again pushed the window open with a strong shove. 

He tossed the blanket rope out of the window with his free arm, then gestured towards it to Zuko. “You first,” he said. 

Zuko shot him a dark look, but slid his body across the sill and grasped the rope tightly in both gloved hands. He took a deep, steadying breath before leaping out of the window. He landed with his feet against the outer ice wall of the palace. Quickly, he shuffled his hands down the rope, moving his legs accordingly, and rappelled down the palace wall to the snow bank before. 

Zuko sank into the snow until it reached midway up his calves and peered up at Sokka’s window above. His ears burned from the cold and his eyes were watering a little. 

In the darkness of the early morning it was hard to discern Sokka’s figure as he followed Zuko’s descent, but soon they were both standing in the snow. 

Zuko was holding the rope in one hand still as he asked, “What do we do about this?”

Sokka scratched the back of his head and offered unhelpfully, “Usually I just leave it.” He lowered his hand as Zuko scoffed. “It’s fine. Let them find it. It won’t tell them anything about where we’re going.”

Zuko huffed a laugh, but released the rope. 

Sokka took a step closer to Zuko. 

Zuko didn’t flinch as Sokka stretched his arms around Zuko’s head. He did hold his breath, though. He drew a sharp sigh of relief as he realized Sokka was just reaching for his parka’s hood. As Zuko exhaled, Sokka tugged the hood over Zuko’s head, then cinched it somehow. 

He took a step back to admire his handiwork and cracked a grin. Tightening the hood around Zuko’s face had plastered the boy’s hair to his forehead and over his eyes. 

Zuko’s eyelashes caught in his hair and he blinked a few times, frustrated. He didn’t fix the hood or his hair, just stared at a spot just next to Sokka’s head. He could see Sokka’s eyes in his periphery.

Sokka didn’t pull his own hood on, which Zuko thought was a mistake. He was much too distinct. 

But as Sokka led him away from the wall and towards the city, Zuko realized that Sokka’s white hair wasn’t actually at all distinguishable from the snow around them. He also noticed that, despite his fears, this side of the palace didn’t seem to be monitored. At least there weren’t any guard towers or parades of troops that he saw. 

It was almost too easy, but they were never stopped as they made their way off the royal grounds and into the surrounding neighborhood. 

Zuko thought that they’d eventually stop at one of the city’s buildings, but Sokka wouldn’t halt, just continued to lead Zuko down street after street until Zuko started to become weary from the cold. 

When Sokka noticed that Zuko was now trailing several paces behind him, struggling to maintain pace, he finally stopped. He waited for Zuko to catch up with him, then grabbed Zuko’s hand and began to lead onwards again. Their new pace was slower. Over his shoulder, Sokka said, “Hold on, we’re almost there.” 

Zuko clenched Sokka’s hand tighter as his chest rattled with a deep breath of frigid air, but he didn’t try to complain. 

They seemed to be nearing the edge of the city; the homes were sparser and the snow looked less travelled. They rounded a corner and suddenly, their view of the city was replaced with a hill of snow. 

Zuko frowned at Sokka, but Sokka didn’t seem to notice. He took a wary step onto the hill to test the strength of the snow. He sank, but the amount must have been satisfactory because Sokka gave a nod before turning to look at Zuko. 

“Wanna wait here?” Sokka asked. 

“Where are you going?”

Sokka glanced back up the hill. “My friend usually sits up here while the waterbenders are practicing. I’m going to try to find her.” 

Zuko said, “The snow looks unstable.”

Sokka shrugged. “It is a little, but it’s manageable,” and he dropped Zuko’s hand to take a few steps up the hill. “Are you coming?” he called to Zuko.

Zuko shivered and decided that standing still would be worse than attempting this climb. He followed Sokka. 

The deep snow was hard to walk over, just as he suspected. Zuko’s boots kept sinking into it and soon his feet were frozen solid from the snow that kept sliding into his boots. 

When they summeted the hill, Zuko paused, turning around to gaze out over the city. The sun’s beams had drifted up over the horizon and by now they were settling on the ice walls of the city’s structures, glinting gold. 

Zuko blinked into the light and took a deep breath. The cut of the air was finally soft enough that his lungs didn’t burn from it and he felt his flame rumble to life in his stomach, growing steadily with the sun. 

He turned again to look down the other side of the hill. He was met with the sight of a group of waterbenders huddled together far beneath them, all practicing the same form in the early morning light. He didn’t see an instructor. 

Sokka didn’t bother to look at the waterbenders. He set his eyes down the length of the hill’s crest in either direction, hand across his forehead to shield his vision from the emerging sun. 

“There!” Sokka cried suddenly and grabbed Zuko’s hand again. He tugged them to the right. The snow was firmer somehow at the top of the hill and Zuko didn’t find himself sinking nearly as much as they walked. 

As they moved closer and the sun’s rays intensified, Zuko could make out a figure in the distance sitting at the top of the hill, looking out at the waterbenders. 

Sokka dropped Zuko’s hand and bounced ahead, a spring in his steps as he rushed forwards. Zuko tried to match this pace, but was still trailing by a few steps as Sokka reached the figure. 

“Psst,” Sokka whispered loudly and the stranger turned around, startled. The papers she had been holding crumpled in her fist. 

Zuko could see relief on her face as she recognized Sokka. Wariness settled in again as her eyes met Zuko. He didn’t try to walk any closer.

Sokka gestured towards Zuko and said, “I need some help.” 

The stranger’s eyes darted from Zuko to Sokka, then back to Zuko. She stood, sliding the crumpled papers into her robes as she smoothed them. She was the figure of elegance, Zuko thought, as he absorbed the enormous gem securing her hair at the top of her head. It waterfalled from the gem in two sections, which were secured above her ears with two more gems before she had braided the rest. The braids swung around her shoulders as she offered Zuko a stilted bow. “I’m Princess Yue,” she said upon rising. 

“Chief Arnook’s daughter,” Sokka elaborated as Zuko sank into a deep bow. 

Zuko’s mouth was numb from the cold, but he managed to say, “Zuko,” his frozen lips slurring the word slightly. 

“Zuko,” Princess Yue said with a thoughtful sigh. She turned back to Sokka and sighed again, saying, “This isn’t a good place to talk. Come with me.” She turned on her heel and strode down the side of the hill.

Her pace was met with wide eyes from Zuko, though Sokka followed Yue without hesitation, matching the confidence of her steps. 

Zuko didn’t want to be left behind, but as soon as he’d stepped off the ridge of the hill, his boot filled with more snow. How had they rushed down like that? 

Zuko grumbled as he followed them cautiously. It seemed like every time his foot landed in front of him, it skidded farther down the hill than he intended, wrecking his balance. 

He was still halfway up the hill when Sokka and Yue reached the bottom. They both turned to peer up at Zuko. Sokka said, “Come on,” as Yue chastised, “Hurry up.”

Zuko took a hasty step in response, but it was too uncalculated and his heel scraped against a slick section. He overbalanced then, barely managing to keep his head upright as his body slid down the remainder of the hill. 

He landed at the bottom amidst a puff of loose snow that swirled around his body, sticking to his hair and eyelashes. 

Sokka, smiling, reached a hand into the cloud of snow and helped Zuko to his feet. 

“You alright?” Sokka asked as he peered into Zuko’s eyes. 

“Yeah,” Zuko mumbled through the blocks of ice that were his lips. 

Sokka brushed some snow off of Zuko’s shoulders, then rotated his head to nod at Yue. 

She rolled her eyes, but began to lead them back through the city, a different direction than they had come. 

Zuko was more relieved than he showed when she stopped the group after they had walked the length of just a single street. She marched up to the doorframe of a small ice structure and threw open the door without knocking. 

Sokka followed and Zuko did the same, barely hesitating. 

“Where are we?” Zuko asked as he ducked through the doorframe. 

“A place I come sometimes. Why are you so nosy?” Yue answered as she lit a fire in the corner of the room.

There was a table with four chairs around it near the fire. Sokka grabbed three of these chairs and dragged them to the side of the fire. 

Yue withdrew and exited the room, back out to the street. 

Sokka sat down on one of the chairs and gestured for Zuko to do the same. When Zuko sat next to Sokka, Sokka gestured to Zuko’s boots.

Zuko raised a foot. Sokka leaned forward obligingly and tugged off Zuko’s boot. He shook the boot upside down, dislodging some snow, before placing it in front of the fire. 

Zuko took off his other boot and set it next to the other by the fire to dry, while Sokka did the same to his own shoes.

Yue reentered the room, but she wasn’t alone. She was shadowed by Katara. 

As Zuko recognized the princesses, he stood up, unconsciously offering his seat by the fire. Katara ignored him and moved to stand next to Sokka. She began to whisper something in his ear. 

After surveying the group, Yue collected the fourth chair in the room and dragged it to the others by the fire. Zuko was still standing as Yue took her seat next to him with a sigh, stretching her feet towards the fire. 

Katara finished whispering to Sokka and he suddenly said, “So they think you’re a part of an invasion scheme.” Seeing the look in Zuko’s eyes, Sokka added, “Which is obviously not true. But those Fire Nation ships are doing something and you might know something about that.”

Zuko shook his head and sat down between Yue and Sokka. “Why would I know anything about it?”

Sokka and Katara exchanged a look, before Sokka’s eyes turned back to Zuko and he said, “Because your uncle is apparently leading the fleet.”

Zuko blinked, confused. “That doesn’t make any sense,” he mumbled. 

“Why not?” Yue’s voice from behind startled Zuko. He jumped, turning to face her. 

His eyes were wide as he replied, “Because he’s retired! He has been since…” He trailed off. “Iroh hasn’t been a part of the war effort for a long time,” he finished, dropping his head to stare at the ground directly between his feet. 

“Hm,” Sokka breathed. “There’s another man with him. He’s been identified as an Admiral Zhao. Know him?”

Zuko exhaled heavily. “Yeah, but he wasn’t an admiral when I knew him.” Irritation darkened his voice.

“Interesting,” Sokka replied, oblivious to Zuko’s tone. “Know anything else particularly interesting about him?”

“No,” Zuko said, folding his arms against his chest and leaning back in his chair, eyes still fixed stubbornly on the same spot on the floor. 

The pace of Zuko's breath was deepening as Sokka took a sigh. “Hm,” Sokka said again. “What about your uncle?”

With a jerk of his muscles, Zuko stood up quickly, pushing his chair to skid backwards. “Why are you interrogating me?” The abruptness of his tone caught even Zuko by surprise. Three pairs of startled eyes shone back at him.

Sokka flinched. “I'm,” he began. 

Zuko's ears rang and he pressed over him loudly, “I won’t betray my father.”

For a moment, Zuko could only register a loud silence. The ringing in his ears crescendoed, bringing the sting of tears to his eyes, and he found himself wishing desperately that he could unspeak. 

He hadn't lied, though. Whatever Sokka said, no matter what happened here, Zuko knew that betraying his father wasn't an option. He already knew what his father would do to him for thinking that he was a traitor. He didn't need to find out what Ozai would do to him if he had proof of it. 

What would Sokka do if Zuko refused to help him? Zuko's mind supplied. He thought about something Azula had said once about worrying less about the tides, who haven't decided yet, and worrying more about Azula, who'd already decided to kill. Zuko shook his head to steady his thoughts. Hurting Sokka was a necessary loss, he decided, training his eyes at last on the scene in front of him. His best interest was focusing on his father, whose mind was already made up. 

When Zuko's eyes focused, Yue was aggressively rising to her feet, pushing her chair to the floor with a sound of disgust. Back turned to Zuko, she strode to Katara, who offered Zuko a last look before clicking her tongue responsively in disapproval, and the pair left the room hastily.

Warily, Zuko watched Sokka slowly rise from his chair. Gold eyes shone as Sokka looked at Zuko. “I’m not asking you to,” he said. He looked betrayed enough, Zuko noted with a pang. “I am,” he paused and his hands balled into fists at his sides, “trying to protect my people.”

A flurry of emotion crowded Zuko’s throat, blocking any words. Before he had a chance to say anything more than, "Sokka", both of their attentions were drawn by Yue’s voice outside and a short series of furious knocks upon the door. 

The intruders didn’t wait for a response before forcing the door open. Fifteen armed men fanned into the room. Aggressively, they divided Sokka and Zuko, pressing the boys into opposite sides of the room under threat of spear point. 

Chief Arnook entered next. He didn’t watch as his men began to bind Zuko’s wrists again, his attention was immediately drawn by a livid Sokka. 

“How dare you?” Sokka yelled at the chief. His hand went to his boomerang, slung over his back, and in response, Chief Arnook urged his men forward. They lowered their spears closer to Sokka and pushed him until his back was against the wall, pinning him without access to his weapon. “Wait,” Sokka cried. 

More of the men pushed closer to Sokka, blocking any hope of his escape, as a group of the men hauled Zuko through the room and out into the street. “Wait!” Sokka yelled again, desperately. “I need more time with him!”

Zuko’s head hung. He recognized Yue and Katara by their shoes as the guards pushed him past, but he didn’t try to lift his gaze. He already knew what he’d be met with if he looked into their eyes. 

The guards in the room kept Sokka trapped for a while before eventually the group thinned and Sokka pushed his way out of the structure. As he passed Katara, who was lingering by the doorway, she tried to say something, but he brushed past her with his shoulder. She bit her tongue and followed him. 

He was yelling at the guards and swiping at them with his boomerang, but the group surrounding Zuko, at the repeated reminder of Chief Arnook, was tightly knitted together and constantly rotating. Every time Sokka managed to push past a guard, two more would push forward from behind, keeping him from even the sight of Zuko. 

Sokka continued the losing battle until the group reached the palace entrance. Chief Arnook was leading by the time they reached the doors and he rested one hand on the doors for a moment before opening them, yelling suddenly, “Tui can’t hear you, Sokka!” He gestured at the sun, now fully realized in the sky. “The moon spirit’s asleep, scream all you want.” 

Sokka spluttered as the chief ushered the men and Zuko through the palace doors, before slamming them in Sokka’s face. 

After a moment, Zuko could hear Sokka shoving the doors open, but the men leading him were already forcing his descent down the prison stairs. 

Roughly, the men carted Zuko down the stairs and through the hallway at the end, returning him to the cell room. When they had all entered the room, the men shut the ice door firmly, positioning a guard to block it. 

Zuko could hear yelling from the hall and thuds like Sokka’s body against the ice door as he was briefly relieved of his restraints, only to be stripped of his parka and roughly rebound.

The men threw him, shirtless, shoeless, and breathing wildly, back into his cell. 

Zuko’s head hit the ground and he let his body sink to the floor, wincing tightly. 

Master Pakku had been waiting in the room for Zuko’s arrival. Zuko heard his voice say, “I hope you had a relaxing field trip,” but it sounded far away. 

Sokka’s voice was clearer in Zuko’s mind as he finally burst through the door, sending a guard stumbling, and shouted at anyone, “You think you can get rid of me?”

Master Pakku intercepted, feet sliding smoothly against the floor as he moved to block Sokka. He said slowly, “I think all the Fire Prince has to do is conjure a little fire, remind you exactly what you don’t like about his kind, Prince Sokka, and you’ll get rid of yourself.”

So no one had told Sokka. Zuko beat his head once into the ground. Stupid. Zuko should have told him. His teeth ground together. Stupid, he thought again bitterly. 

Sokka shook. “He’s not a firebender. He didn’t say that,” he seethed, but he looked over at Zuko and his resolve crumpled a bit. He took a shaky step backwards. “He would've told me.”

Pakku stepped forward. “But he is.”

Pakku continued to move closer to Sokka and Sokka stumbled back, composure cracking noticeably. “He's not,” he murmured weakly.

Pakku’s feet suddenly shifted on the floor to a solid stance and he moved his arms, manipulating a globe of water from a bucket in the corner. “Does it make you feel better if he is incapacitated?” Pakku asked Sokka as he suddenly whipped the water towards Zuko, dousing the boy completely and forcefully pushing him into the side of his cell. 

Zuko coughed as the cold water sank around him and down into the earth. 

Choked, Sokka cried, “No,” in response to Pakku’s question. The weak sound of the word faded into the quiet of the room and was not replaced. 

There was an icy glare to Sokka from Pakku and Zuko saw the bridge of Sokka’s nose crumple. Zuko saw shock, hurt, anger, but worst, betrayal swimming across Sokka’s eyes. 

So Sokka left anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't hate me 🥺 I won't leave y'all on a cliffhanger like this for too long I will update asap I promise (probably tomorrow after work)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry in advance for just positing a mini chapter 🥺 I haven't had much time to write, I've been busy with work this week and am just getting busier. reading all of your comments is definitely a beam of sunlight while I'm working though so thank you I love you please keep talking to me! I'll try to get better at responding to comments I promise they are all appreciated

Before Sokka could fully exit the room, Katara had pushed herself into the doorframe, blocking it. 

Sokka tried to shove his way past her, but she didn’t budge.

“Katara, move,” Sokka growled. “You shouldn’t have followed us.”

Katara cocked her head to the side and shook it thoughtfully. With a sigh, she grabbed Sokka by his sleeve and tugged him into the hall with her. 

Distantly, Katara said, “Talk to me,” Sokka’s response was muffled by the ice wall between. 

Zuko couldn’t make out any more distinct words, and neither could Master Pakku, it seemed, as they both leaned forward to listen to Katara and Sokka speak in the hallway. 

Zuko caught the word “Whatever,” followed by more indistinguishable speech, and then a “Fine, you’re right,” from Katara, before she re-entered the room by herself.

After a moment, Sokka appeared in the doorframe, leaning against it as he warily surveyed the scene before him. 

Katara addressed the chief, who had been silent this whole time. She said, “You can tell your men to leave. I can handle the prisoner myself.” 

Chief Arnook choked a laugh as if Katara might be joking. He looked to Sokka for confirmation, but with a glance at Sokka’s steeled expression, the chief’s laugh strangled and turned awkwardly into a throat clearing. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean, Princess Katara,” he said to the girl. 

“I’ll explain,” Katara said, crossing her arms across her chest. “The prisoner isn’t going to respond to your style of interrogation.” She dared him with her eyes to argue, but to Zuko’s relief, the chief merely huffed a reluctant agreement in response.

“Let me watch him today,” Katara said. “I’ll report back with what I learn.” 

Zuko sighed into the next shiver that racked his frame. Katara would keep him alive. 

The chief nodded slowly. Pakku seemed unconvinced and said, “Princess Katara, as your waterbending instructor, I think you’re overestimating your abilities. Do you really think you could defeat the prisoner if he decides to attack?” 

The chief nodded again, considering this new perspective. He looked expectantly at Katara, as did Zuko. 

Katara maintained composure, though her face hardened. From the doorway, Sokka rolled his eyes. 

“I am perfectly capable of defending myself against a damp firebender surrounded by ice and snow in the North Pole,” Katara spat. Sokka winced and looked away. 

The chief and Master Pakku exchanged a glance, but the chief said with a grimace, “I’ll still post guards in the hall.” 

Katara looked over at Sokka, who was sullenly staring at his feet. 

The chief said, nodding towards Sokka, “He is to be kept out of here, understood?” 

Katara, still looking at Sokka, forced a cheery “Mhm.”

With a groan, Sokka finally exited the room. Zuko winced with the sound of each of Sokka’s receding footsteps until he could no longer hear them. 

The chief was clearly unimpressed. 

Katara settled herself with another sigh and said, “I will call if I need any help and I will not, under any circumstances, allow Sokka to speak with the prisoner. Are you satisfied, Uncle?”

The chief suppressed a smile that arose from her use of the moniker. He locked eyes with Pakku and said, “Very well.” 

Pakku nodded a bow at the chief. The rest of the guards in the room followed suit in a moment. 

The chief cast his eyes downward to Zuko.

Zuko felt the man’s stare and reluctantly met his gaze. 

Chief Arnook said, “I will be considering the outcome of this very carefully when I decide what to do to you tomorrow.”

Zuko said nothing, but bowed his head low before the chief. He frowned into the dirt away from Arnook’s eyes. 

The chief grunted and with a nod of his head, the guards were bowing deeper as they exited the room. Zuko’s neck prickled uncomfortably under a harsh stare from Master Pakku for a moment before the chief gestured to Pakku, the fabric of his sleeve whispering loudly as he thrust his arm towards Pakku and then to the door, and Pakku relieved Zuko of his gaze by exiting the room. 

The chief tried, and failed, to meet Katara’s eyes, before he grumbled something to Pakku and followed his exit, finally leaving Zuko alone with Katara. A shiver spasmed down Zuko’s spine as the chief disappeared from view. 

When the chief’s footsteps had finally left earshot, Katara exhaled dramatically. She turned her back to Zuko and with a fluid movement of her legs and arms, she coaxed a block of ice to slide from the lower half of the wall opposite the cage, crafting a seat facing Zuko for herself. She sat down heavily and sighed. 

Zuko’s neck was still prickling. He drew himself with shaking limbs from his position laying on the ground, suddenly self-conscious. He folded himself, knees to his chest, against the ice wall of the cell, as far away from Katara as he could get given their current circumstance. His breath was jagged as he watched her warily. 

She just sighed again and looked uncomfortable. 

Zuko swallowed hard. Did she expect him to say something? He didn’t know what to say. Sorry for being a firebender, maybe. 

Sorry for being the son of the Fire Lord would be better. 

It was strange. All his life he had been ashamed for not being a better bender. For being a worse bender than his sister, at least. Now, though, he suddenly felt ashamed for being a bender at all.

“Does Sokka hate me?” he asked limply, not really meaning to give voice to the words. 

Katara sighed, a tendency Zuko was beginning to recognize as frustration. “Obviously not,” she said. She eyed Zuko with pity. “He just had elaborate expectations.”

“Oh,” Zuko said, stung. 

“He just wanted you to want to play a part in ending this war. He probably still thinks you’ll have a change of heart.” The air whistled between Katara’s teeth as she sharply inhaled before saying, “You have to understand that Sokka and I aren't going to accept passivity, though. We’ve been hurt too much by this war already to sit back and watch it continue.”

“I know.” He regretted this immediately and winced his eyes shut.

“Oh?” Katara said suspiciously. 

Zuko dragged his eyelids open to meet Katara’s apprehensive stare. Meekly, he said, “Sokka told me. A little. About your mom. And him.” The effort of eye contact became overwhelming and he dropped his eyes. 

Katara didn’t respond for a while. Zuko shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. He could feel her eyes where they bore into the back of his skull. 

“You don’t make for a very impressive prisoner,” she said eventually. “With all of Pakku’s nagging, I was expecting to be fighting off fireballs.”

Zuko winced. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You think you could hurt me?”

“Not really,” Zuko said honestly. “I’m not in any shape to bend anyway.” He shivered as if to demonstrate his point. 

Katara’s brow furrowed slightly and she leaned forward. “What about when you dry? Will you feel like fighting me then? Could you take me?”

Zuko’s eyes widened and he scrambled to defend himself. “No! I’m not going to fight you. I don’t want to fight you. It’s harder to bend here anyways whether or not I’m dry. I can’t really explain it, but I feel weaker.” His eyes locked with Katara’s and he pleaded, “I’m not going to do anything.”

“I know,” she said smugly as she relaxed back against the wall. “I was just asking if you could.”

Zuko’s ears burned. “Why did you want to watch me?” he asked eventually. 

“I didn’t,” she said and Zuko’s eyes found a spot between his bare feet. “Sokka asked me to.”

Zuko’s head straightened with a jerk and eyes the color of ocean water scoured Katara’s face. Zuko knew a taunt when he heard one, but all his stubborn eyes were telling him was that Katara wasn’t jeering at him. Not to mention, her tone hadn’t been cruel. 

His face twitched as he struggled with the meaning of her words. His jaw felt suddenly heavy. His mouth dried and only yielded pain as he tried to swallow. He rasped, “Why-” but had to cut himself off to attempt a swallow again. His throat clenched shut and he hoped that single word was enough to prompt a response from Katara.

He saw pity dampen her expression again. Her eyes softened and she stood up to walk around the cage to Zuko’s side. 

He flinched, but convinced the tremor in his limbs to still to keep his body from jumping away from her as she kneeled next to him.

Katara placed her hand on one of the bars of the cage separating them and grasped it gently. Still with soft eyes, she answered Zuko, “Just wait. I told him he's going to want to come back at some point. So he asked me to play guard. When he's ready, it'll be easier to get to you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyone like rollercoasters? my favorite type is emotional.


	7. Chapter 7

Katara searched Zuko’s eyes for the flicker of recognition that would come with him understanding what she was saying. 

She didn’t see it. 

After finally managing to force a swallow, Zuko asked sullenly, “What would he be coming back for?”

Katara sighed again and pushed against the cage to stand. “Really, I can’t imagine,” she said. 

Zuko didn’t know what that meant, but kept himself from speaking again. He looked down at the floor.

After a moment, Katara took her seat across from Zuko’s cage again. 

For a while, she entertained herself by turning a small part of the wall to water and trying to make shapes with it. Zuko half-watched. 

When Katara finally noticed that she was being monitored, she let the water splash to her feet. She pressed her hands to her knees and leaned forward. “So what do prisoners do all day?”

Zuko thought about this for a moment, then replied, “Think about being a prisoner.” He relaxed his shoulders where they were leaning against the wall and titled his head back to rest upon it as well. The bare skin of his torso burned where it touched the ice, but Zuko had no intention to move. 

“Must be enlightening,” Katara said.

Zuko closed his eyes. “Sure,” he murmured. “Gives me plenty of time to think about all the mistakes I’ve made that led me to this point.”

“Like leaving the Fire Nation?” Katara’s tone was still light, but it was clear she hoped Zuko wouldn’t consider his leaving a mistake. 

“More like leaving my uncle,” he winced. “Or not learning more before I left.”

His words had plenty of time to sink in.

“You got really defensive when we asked about your uncle earlier,” Katara said reluctantly.

“I don’t like talking about him,” Zuko said instead of reminding her that they had been interrogating him earlier. 

“Oh, I see,” Katara said and Zuko opened his eyes to peer at her. “You hurt him somehow.”

Zuko narrowed his eyes. How had she guessed that?

Reading his thoughts again, Katara arched an eyebrow and said, “Relax, you just seem like the heartbreaker type. Can’t imagine you leaving your uncle went well. For either of you really.”

“You’re a great interrogator,” Zuko said sullenly. “Why bother with any of the rest when you can just guess it all.” 

Katara didn’t take the bait. “Are you trying to say that you’re not actually a heartbreaker?”

Zuko shook his head, reeling a little before something clicked. “I thought we were talking about the war.”

Katara clicked her tongue. “Sokka, the war, your uncle, whatever. We’re just talking, Zuko. Are you gonna answer my question?”

“No, I’m not a heartbreaker.” Zuko sucked his teeth. 

“Just stupid?” Katara supplied.

Zuko winced a smile. “Just stupid,” he said and shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably against the wall. He winced again as he relaxed. 

Katara said nothing as Zuko slumped his shoulders forward from the wall, finally overwhelmed by the burn of the ice. He shifted forward and around, balancing his weight carefully.

“Sokka’s kind of stupid too,” she said and Zuko stilled, folding his knees to his chest again. “Should work out in your favor actually.”

Zuko lifted his head weakly. “What do you mean?” he rasped.

She sighed, tired of having to spell everything out. “I mean,” she drew out. “If it’s a matter of loyalty that you’re concerned about,” she fixed her eyes on Zuko with a sharp stare, “don’t be.”

Zuko shook his head downward, still confused. He felt the start of a headache push against his temples. 

Katara sank back against the wall with a thud. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“No,” Zuko replied bitterly. 

He could imagine Katara rolling her eyes, but he didn’t bother a look to confirm. 

She said, “I’m saying, Zuko, as far as you’re concerned, Sokka’s mind is made up.” Zuko reluctantly met her eyes. “You’re it for him. You’re wondering where his loyalty lies? It’s with you, idiot.”

Zuko blinked a few times, still not really understanding. The headache was beginning to drum against his skull.

Katara’s tone was excessively tense as she said, “You don’t believe me?”

Zuko didn’t respond.

“Tell me what wasn’t enough proof then.”

Katara stood and walked toward him. Zuko tried to keep himself still, but as Katara, anger spelled across her face, reached the cage, he flew suddenly back against the ice wall, away from the accusations of her glare. 

Her tone was only a little softer than the look on her face as Katara demanded, “Was it not enough that he stole you out of here the first night he knew you even existed? Didn’t he immediately believe you and want to help you? Hasn’t he already helped you under direct orders from the chief not to help you?” 

Zuko winced. She seemed ready to continue but in the pause of her drawing a breath, Zuko said quickly, “I get it.”

Katara gaped at him. 

His eyes flicked up to her and away again. “It doesn’t matter now though.”

“Why?” Her tone was still rough.

It was difficult to swallow again. Zuko had to cough before he could say, “He found out that I was a firebender.” He managed a painful swallow. “I didn’t tell him.”

Katara sighed, her anger dissipating, and said, “Stupid.” Zuko nodded his head in agreement. “Why didn’t you tell him?”

Zuko shrugged limply. “I thought he already knew,” he said, but he knew it was a weak excuse. Deep in his mind, he had to have known that Sokka wouldn’t approve of firebending. That he would think less of Zuko for it. Zuko would’ve concealed this information, subconsciously or not. 

“What?” Katara began, but was interrupted by the sound of voices in the hall. She spun on her heel to face the sound’s direction. 

The door to the cell room was opened and two men entered, one carrying two plates. 

“Forgive us, Princess Katara,” the man holding the plates said. “We’ve come to bring the prisoner his meal.”

The other man offered Katara a deep bow and after grabbing the now-empty bucket sitting in the corner, left the room through the other hallway, headed towards the room with the pool. Zuko watched his exit warily while Katara steeled her gaze on the first man.

“Okay,” she said and reached out her hands to accept the plates. 

The man just smiled and glanced down at his hip where a key ring sat. “I’ve got to open the cage first, Princess Katara,” he said. Katara bristled at the condescension in his voice, but accepted the plate when the man eventually handed one of them to her. She set it down mutely on the seat she had crafted. 

Painstakingly slowly, the man reached for the key ring as he walked towards the cell, eyeing Zuko with disdain. 

Zuko’s skin crawled. 

Once the key was between the man’s fingers, he paused. His eyes travelled up and down the length of Zuko’s body folded by the back wall of the cell. He ordered, “Prisoner, kneel with your back facing me.”

Zuko’s knees ached as he unfolded them from his chest. He moved slowly, to not startle the guard. 

The man just grunted, “Hurry up.”

Zuko’s eyes drifted pleadingly to Katara for a second before he tore them away and rushed to obey the guard. 

As soon as his knees settled onto the ground, Zuko heard the second man’s return. 

This man moved around the cage to Zuko’s side and with a heave of the bucket, doused Zuko with ice water. 

Zuko couldn’t maintain the kneel as his muscles contracted from the shock and he bent over with a gasp, sinking to the ground. 

Katara cried out then, but it wasn’t a word. 

The guard didn’t address her, just unlocked the cage before roughly tossing the plate still in his hands down onto the ground of the cell. He pushed it towards Zuko with his boot. The blood was rushing in Zuko’s ears again and he didn’t respond to the food. 

The guard slammed the cell door shut loudly and locked it. 

“Go. Now,” Katara fumed. 

The guard seemed surprised by her hostility. He chuckled softly as he bowed. With a bounce, he gestured to the man standing by the cage still and the two exited the room. From the hall, Zuko heard, “Call if you need anything.”

Zuko couldn’t do anything to stop the shaking of his limbs as Katara rushed to the side of the cage. She sank to a kneel next to his collapsed form and forced a hand through the bars of the cage.

Gently, she laid her hand on Zuko’s arm. He twitched with the contact, but didn’t pull away, so Katara took a deep breath and began to draw the water away from him. She formed a globe from the water she collected, which hovered in front of her chest.

“Shouldn’t you want me weak?” Zuko rasped. He felt stronger now that Katara was drying him.

She finished collecting as much of the water as she could and said tensely, “Only if you were going to hurt me.” She withdrew her arm from the cage and sent the globe of water back into its bucket. 

Zuko couldn’t counter that. 

With a shudder, he pushed himself into a sitting position, facing Katara and the plate of food. He didn’t know how to thank her.

Katara followed his eyes as he glanced at the plate. “Come on,” she said. “You should eat.”

Zuko responded by shaking his arms, still clasped in chains behind his back. “I’m not hungry anyways,” he said wearily. Really, he was starving but his dignity would withhold him from eating like this in front of Katara.

It wasn’t hard for Katara to believe him, though. The meal looked unappetizing anyway. It was a lumpy concoction, uniformly gray and entirely indistinguishable as food. 

She stood and looked over at her own plate, which looked much different. 

Her brow furrowed suddenly as if she were trying to recall a memory and she shoved a hand into a pocket of her parka. Smiling, she withdrew a fistful of something. 

Zuko tried to recognize what she was holding, but it looked like tree bark or leather or maybe just some rocks. 

With her other hand, she grabbed one of the things and presented it to Zuko through the bars of his cage. “It’s Sokka’s favorite,” she said, seeing the confusion on Zuko’s face. “Seal jerky!”  
The scent reached Zuko, piquing his curiosity and prompting a twinge in his stomach. 

He stood unsteadily. 

Katara smiled and urged him forward. 

Reluctantly, he neared her. She pressed the jerky closer towards him and timidly, Zuko grasped it between his teeth, pressing away hastily from Katara as soon as the food was secure in his mouth. 

The texture was strange, Zuko thought, but not unpleasant. He could taste the meat, but the flavor was mostly salt and smoke. Not bad, but also not good enough to be someone’s “favorite”, Zuko thought a little harshly.

Katara fed him another bit of jerky before he withdrew sincerely, returning to his seat by the ice wall, though he didn’t attempt to press his back to it this time. 

“You should eat too,” he said and nodded towards her forgotten plate. 

Katara clicked her tongue, but agreed. She returned to her seat, setting the plate in her lap after she had settled. 

Zuko watched as she ate and tried not to salivate. The jerky had been decent, but not entirely filling, and he didn’t want to eat like this. It made him feel too much like a child again. He didn’t need Katara to think that he needed her to feed him more. If the aching in his stomach didn’t go away, Zuko figured at some point Katara would either leave or fall asleep and he could eat from the plate on the floor in peace and relative privacy.

Eventually, Katara finished her meal, leaving some food on the plate. She stood up and brought her plate to Zuko. She had to tilt it to slip it through the cracks in the cage, but none of the food fell off and soon it was securely on the ground. 

“In case you want some later,” she said with a shrug, returning already to stand near her seat. 

Zuko grunted his thanks but didn’t move. 

“This must be a lot different than what you’re used to,” Katara said. 

Zuko thought about the palace in Caldera City. Thought about his meals and the room his father had kept him locked in most of the time. “Only difference is the cold, really,” he said nonchalantly. 

Katara took this as a joke and laughed a little, reluctantly. 

“Do you mind if I practice waterbending?” she asked after a while. 

Zuko shook his head then and tried to relax it against one of his shoulders. He kept his eyes on Katara as she stood to draw the water from the bucket again with a wave of her arms and moved it towards herself. 

Katara hesitantly assumed a position, her feet steadily pressing into the ground beneath her. She pulled the ball of water close to her chest and drew a strong breath.

Then she drew both arms behind her back. The water responded by thinning, turning into a loose line. She flung one arm back in front of her and the water responded by whipping backwards.

She let it splash to the floor and sighed. 

Zuko cracked a small smile, but Katara didn’t notice. “Looks good,” he said.

“It was supposed to whip in front of me,” Katara retaliated, her eyes narrowing. 

Zuko winced. “Maybe you’re just rushing it,” he offered weakly.

She sighed, but seemed to agree. Deliberately, she raised her left arm straight out from her side and with her right arm, swooped the water up from the ground. She circled her arms around each other once, swirling the water into a rough globe, and paused with her left arm crooked behind her, fist in the air, and her right arm straight from her side, pointing slightly down. 

As she pushed her right arm further out in front of her chest, her left fist curled in towards her head. She corrected and straightened her left arm behind her. 

The water had moved forward slightly as her left fist had bowed toward her head and as she straightened her arm behind her, the water whipped backwards again. 

“That looked better,” Zuko said. Katara growled in response and Zuko decided not to speak anymore.

She tried the form one more time, but moved too fast, too erratically, and the water whipped her in the forehead. Growling, Katara rubbed the red mark left from the whip and took her seat with a huff.

Zuko wisely kept his mouth shut.

“I could still take you,” she said sullenly.

“I don’t doubt it,” he replied truthfully. What difference did a water whip make anyways when she could always just douse him. 

“Yeah.” She forced a bitter laugh. “I bet you’re a good bender, though.”

Zuko shook his head. “Not really.” He shrugged. “The Northern Water Tribe would be having a much harder time if you’d captured my sister instead of me.”

“Azula, right?” 

Zuko nodded. “She’s a prodigy. Azula was only four years old when she started firebending.” He smiled, remembering the day that Azula had shown him the meager fire she could create in her tiny palms. He remembered how the flame had danced across the lines of her skin and illuminated her eyes as she grinned expectantly. He had been happy for her then. Proud, even. Things had changed, though, once their father had started training her himself. Zuko’s smile disappeared. “You don’t want to be on the opposing side of her.”

Katara mulled this over. “I think you were always bound to be the one we captured, though. You were meant to come here.”

Zuko recognized her kindness and the smile cracked weakly across his face again as he said, “As long as Sokka still feels the same.”

Katara clicked her tongue and stood from her seat as she said, "If I could get over the Firebender thing, believe me, Sokka can too." Zuko didn't respond. Katara began to collect the water from the floor again and Zuko turned his head away to give her privacy as she attempted the water whip again.

After listening to her sounds of frustration for a while, Zuko’s eyelids were growing weary and resting his head on his shoulder was becoming uncomfortable. Slowly, he unfolded himself and tried to curl up on the ground in the center of the cage. 

Katara didn’t stop practicing as he settled. 

His eyes fluttered shut and after a while, her noises became distant, like he was walking the line between dream and reality. 

He rested like this for a long time, never really falling asleep, still listening faintly to Katara. 

When the guards returned to the cell room later, Zuko didn’t bother to open his eyes. 

It sounded like two men. When one of them spoke, his voice was heavy with tiredness. He said, “Princess Katara, we’re here to guard the prisoner for the night. You can go back to your room, now, if you’d like to rest a little.”

“It’s just you two, then?” Katara responded. 

“Yes, Princess.”

Zuko heard a sound like Katara waving her sleeve and she said, “Go home then. I’ve been put in charge here. The prisoner’s asleep anyways and I can handle him better than two non-benders. Come back to relieve me in the morning.”

The guards agreed reluctantly, though they seemed eager to leave the chilly dungeon. 

Katara resumed her seat with a sigh. 

Zuko kept his eyes shut, but alertness was seeping into his consciousness. 

It was time to wait, though Zuko didn’t know exactly what he was waiting for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so Katara and Zuko are best friends don't argue


	8. Chapter 8

Zuko never really fell asleep. 

He did however slip into a deep meditative state that very closely resembled unconsciousness.

If he did nod into a dream, he wouldn’t have noticed it. 

It was the early hours of the morning by the time he roused himself because the room felt uncharacteristically warm. 

He blinked into his blurry vision a few times and noticed that the light in the room was changing with his breath. 

Zuko rubbed his good eye with his shoulder. He inhaled and saw the flame of the single torch grow enormous, then exhaled and watched it shrink to the size of a pea. As consciousness solidified Zuko’s connection to the fire, he felt heat crowd his chest and he knew that the room wasn’t warmer, he was just warming himself. 

Zuko remembered suddenly that he wasn’t alone. 

He figured Katara was asleep by now and risked a glance to check. 

She wasn’t. 

Zuko startled at the sight of Katara leaning forward on her seat intently, one hand folded across her knees and the other supporting her chin. She was staring at the flickering of the torch. 

Her gaze switched to Zuko and the breath strangled in his throat. Responsively, the torch’s flame twisted, popped, then deflated to nonexistence, blanketing the room in a complete darkness. 

“Zuko!” Katara cried in alarm. 

Zuko coughed around the breath that was choking him and cried, “I’m sorry!”

“Turn in back on!”

Zuko blinked. Twice. “I can’t,” he said. 

“What do you mean you can’t?” Zuko couldn’t see Katara, but from the sound of her voice, she was closer to the cage now.

He shook his chained arms. “It’s far. I can’t even see where it is. Do you want me to shoot fire randomly? From my mouth!?”

Zuko heard Katara’s footsteps, then a soft slap of her palms against one of the walls. “I’ll bring it to you,” she said, and he heard her footsteps move to the approximate location of the torch. He felt cold now. His back ached, but he pulled himself into a sitting position so he could press his knees tightly to his chest against the shiver that was developing. 

“Found it,” Katara said. She pried the torch off of the wall clumsily. “Say something so I know what direction to walk.”

“I’m here,” Zuko responded. He hadn’t meant to sound as sullen as he did.

Katara took a few shuffling steps towards his voice and he heard the sound of her suddenly colliding with a cell wall in front of him. “Ow,” she muttered and he stood to walk quickly towards her voice. 

Suddenly he walked into the same wall of the cell and emitted a yelp of surprise. Katara muttered something and Zuko felt her hand on the other side of the bars, confirming that she was in front of him. 

“Can you see anything? Can you light the torch?” Katara asked. 

“No,” Zuko said reluctantly after straining his eyes into the darkness, finding himself unable to discern even the shape of the bars in front of his nose. “I have an idea,” he said with a wince.

“Do it, then.”

Zuko sighed and rolled his sore wrists behind his back. He stretched out his fingers too, before cupping his palms upwards towards the ceiling. With a steady exhale, he pulled a small flame into existence, which twitched delicately above the palms of his hands. 

The meager flame brought sufficient light to the room, dimly illuminating everything but the corners. 

Katara looked appalled. Zuko winced, almost killing the flame again. 

“You could’ve been doing that this whole time?” she cried, surprising him. “I didn’t have to walk right into the cage? Neither of us had to walk into the stupid cage?”

“I’m sorry,” Zuko tried again. 

“Stupid,” Katara breathed. 

“At least I can light the torch now.”

Katara’s mouth twitched and she raised the torch to her side a cautious distance from her torso.

“Ready?” Zuko asked through his teeth. 

“Obviously.”

Zuko’s brow furrowed as he concentrated on his target. Katara’s hand wasn’t extremely high on the torch, but it was high enough that precision was a great concern for Zuko here. 

He drew an absurdly long breath and held it as he made eye contact with Katara, before focusing his eyes back to the top of the torch and releasing a narrow stream of fire from his slightly parted lips. He abruptly cut off the stream before it got very long. 

If Katara felt uneasy, it didn’t show. Her hand didn’t shake when the stream of fire reached the torch. As the flames passed the torch and dissipated behind it, the torch’s already charred edges ignited. 

Katara breathed a sigh of relief, as did Zuko, as the rest of the torch caught, returning a steady glow to the room. 

Zuko abandoned the flame in his palms, relaxing his fingers. They prickled painfully where the frost had begun to recede under the direct heat of the fire. He sat down again. 

Katara returned the torch to the metal band which secured it to the wall. “I’ve never seen someone firebend like that before you,” she said. “Make the fire move with their breath.”

Zuko winced. “Usually it’s on purpose. I didn’t mean to be doing it.”

Katara hummed. “Does it warm you?”

Zuko nodded.

“You can keep doing it, if you want. Don’t let me stop you,” she said. “Just don’t blow the torch out again.”

Zuko nodded again. “Why doesn’t it bother you anymore? The firebending thing, I mean. It bothered you earlier.”

Katara sighed and sat as well. Zuko noticed the dark rings that were beginning to form under her eyes. “Just something a friend keeps saying about there having to be good firebenders, I guess. He seems sure and I guess I kind of hope you’re who he’s talking about. If you were, it would certainly uncomplicate a lot of this mess anyway,” she said.

Zuko opened his mouth to reply, but was stopped by the sudden sound of distant footsteps in the hall. 

Zuko’s muscles tensed, but Katara seemed to relax as she turned her head towards the room’s door.

Zuko heard Sokka’s voice. “Katara?”

“I’m here,” she called back and Sokka pushed the door open with his shoulder. He entered the room with a single cautious step. His eyes met Zuko’s form and Sokka looked at the boy, hesitating his glance on Zuko’s bare chest for a moment too long, before jerking his eyes away to look at Katara. One of his hands was holding a torch and the other was resting on his boomerang, which was now slung above his hip. 

He’d changed tunics, too, Zuko noted approvingly. The new tunic was longer, reaching almost to his ankles, and darker, a twilight navy except for a yellow tan trim around the openings. It looked warm, too. The fabric was richly textured and heavy. Even the fur of the trim looked thick. 

Zuko had to stop himself. Sokka was already talking to Katara and Zuko was stuck staring at the cuffs of Sokka’s shirt.

“I should leave the two of you to talk,” Katara was saying. 

“You should stay,” Sokka said, his voice deep and quiet. His right hand didn’t leave the boomerang, but he extinguished the torch in his left by pressing it into the ground and tossed it aside with a clatter. The noise made Zuko flinch. 

Katara drew a steep breath through her teeth. 

Sokka sighed in response and took a few heavy steps to turn to face Zuko.

Zuko reluctantly met Sokka’s glare. 

Sokka marched toward him then, saying gruffly, “Give me one good reason I should trust you still.”

Zuko flinched and hung his head in response. “You probably shouldn’t,” he said painfully.

Sokka stopped just outside the cage and sighed. 

He surprised Zuko by flopping to the ground with another heavy exhale. Sokka crossed his legs over each other and leaned forward. His forehead touched the cage. He sighed a third time, then looking at the ground, said softly, “Nevermind. That won’t work on me. I already trust you. I just wanted to see what you’d say.”

Zuko wanted to express frustration, but he cast his gaze towards Sokka’s and he bit his tongue. Sokka's downturned eyes didn’t look angry or judging or calculating. It almost looked like he was scared. 

“I know you’re not going to hurt me,” Sokka said, raising his head from the bars. “And I know you don’t want anyone else to hurt me.”

Zuko’s brow furrowed and he nodded emphatically. The image of Sokka being attacked in front of him brought the blood in his veins to a sudden boil. 

“What if it was your father though?” Sokka asked and Zuko’s vision glazed. “Would you let him kill me?” 

Zuko could barely breathe past the vivid image that suddenly overwhelmed his senses. He saw Ozai, towering over a kneeling Sokka, grasping his palm tightly around Sokka’s head, lifting his face with hot fingertips pressed deep against his skull, just like he’d done to Zuko all those years ago, and just-

Zuko’s vision distorted and his sight blurred again as he heard his forceful voice say, “No.” Tears burned his eyes but didn’t spill. He had to clench his fists behind him to keep them from shaking. 

Sokka breathed, “I know,” as if he really had known.

“How?” was Zuko’s raspy voice. 

Sokka shook his head a little. “I felt it for you instantly. I’d stop Arnook from killing you. Or my dad if he tried. Or yours. Anyone.” Sokka’s tone was timid as he added, “I just needed to hear you say it.”

Zuko’s heart was beating rapidly as he struggled with what he had just said to Sokka. This was why Ozai had always told him that finding his soulmate would make him weak, Zuko realized. Ozai would have said anything to keep Zuko from feeling what he was feeling now. 

He felt with certainty that he would sooner kill Ozai than watch as his father attacked Sokka and that was treasonous. 

A mumble escaped Zuko’s lips and he shook his head numbly. It wasn’t like Ozai was here now, was it. No immediate danger threatened Sokka. The Firelord didn’t even know Sokka.

“You know better than any of us what your father is capable of. So I’m not gonna ask you to betray him. I realize now it’s more complicated than that. Which is why,” Sokka paused to draw a full breath, “I’ve come up with a plan to get you out of here for good.”

“What?” Katara and Zuko said at the same time.

Sokka looked very satisfied with himself. “For good,” he repeated. He spoke to Katara, turning his head to her as he said, “If he never talks, they’re gonna kill him. I’m not saying it’ll happen tomorrow, but eventually they’ll give up on silence or the invasion will be too close for it to matter. They’re gonna call him a war criminal. I could say whatever I wanted but it won't matter to them. You can argue with me all you want but you know they don’t want me around him. They’re gonna do whatever it takes to get rid of him.”

“So what? You’re gonna just take him somewhere?” Katara responded. 

Zuko said, “This isn’t a good plan.”

Sokka turned his head back to face Zuko. “It’s the only plan. Doesn’t matter if it’s good or not. We have to get you out of the city. Out of the North Pole.” Sokka’s eyes were level with Zuko’s as they met.

“To where?” Katara demanded. “You can’t just steal a boat.”

“I know,” Sokka said without turning his face. Slowly, he revealed, “That’s why we’re going to have to walk.”

Zuko’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “I am not walking through the tundra to escape the Northern Water Tribe.”

“To where?” Katara asked. “Where would you even walk to?”

Sokka was talking to Zuko when he said, “It won’t be that far. Look.” He pointed his left hand at an imaginary point in front of his face. “We’re here, right? At the deepest point of the bay.” With his right arm, he drew an arc downward and to the right from his pointed finger. “We just have to walk from the city to the westmost point of the bay. There’s an outpost there, usually abandoned this time of year. They’ll have boats and supplies and we can make the escape there. It’s not that far to the Earth Kingdom.” Sokka fixed Zuko with a pointed stare. “That’s what you wanted anyway, right? To find somewhere peaceful in the Earth Kingdom?”

Zuko had to nod, but his stomach was turning. “I don’t think this is a good idea,” he said stubbornly. 

Sokka’s stare softened. “I’m giving you a third option here. Right now, either you can see how far you can get with not telling Pakku anything or you can tell them everything you know.” Zuko swallowed hard. “I know you don’t like either of those options. So come with me instead.” It was Sokka’s turn to swallow around the lump in his own throat. “Unless you’d rather be here when the invasion arrives.”

Zuko was struck. On one hand, maybe it would be better for him to be here when the Fire Nation invaders reached the shore. Maybe Admiral Zhao, or his uncle, would take pity on him and release him from his captivity. 

But then what? Zuko thought. They’d expect him to fight with them, to help them capture the city, burn it down, maybe even kill a few tribe members. 

He shook his head mutely. He couldn’t be here when the Fire Nation invaded. 

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” Zuko finally settled on saying.

“Hm,” Katara breathed approvingly. She said, “Master Pakku and Chief Arnook will not take it well when they see their prisoner has been liberated.”

“I’ll write them a letter,” Sokka said indignantly. “A good one. I’ll tell them how I took it upon myself to free Zuko and that they shouldn’t bother following us because I won’t change my mind.”

“They’re not going to-” Katara began.

“Please, Katara,” Sokka said suddenly, cutting her off with his plea. “I can’t let them hurt him.” He was still looking at Zuko.

“This doesn’t sound very thought-through, Sokka,” Katara said.

Sokka rolled his eyes then and turned to face Katara. “Then help me think it through!”

Katara crossed her arms. “Well first of all, how are you even going to get him out of the cage in the first place? In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t have the key!”

Sokka thought about this for a moment. “I’ll talk to Chief Arnook in the morning,” he said. “You already got him to agree that his interrogation wasn’t working, I bet I could convince him to let me spend some time with Zuko outside of here if I tell him I could do a better interrogation.”

Katara was ready, but Zuko beat her to speech, saying, “You’d have to convince them that you hate me. They’ll see right through you otherwise.” Katara closed her mouth without a word and waited for Sokka’s reply. 

“I can try,” Sokka said with a laugh. “It's possible, though. Just do a little firebending the next time I’m around when Arnook is and I’ll tell you I hate you.”

Zuko winced. Katara replied for him, “They’ll punish him for firebending.”

“Fine,” Sokka said. “I’ll just bring it up myself, then. I can make it sound natural. What? You don’t believe me?” Sokka was appalled by the concern displayed across both Zuko and Katara’s faces. “Both of you are idiots. I’m a great actor.”

Katara was shaking her head and Zuko was shivering again. Neither believed Sokka. 

Sokka tried not to look at Zuko’s trembling chest as he said, “Everyone is in agreement that the current situation sucks, right?”

Mumbled agreements came eagerly from Katara and hesitantly from Zuko. 

“Good,” Sokka said, tearing his eyes away from Zuko. “So what’s the next issue you have with my plan, then?” he asked Katara.

Katara sighed. “How are you going to get out of the palace once you’ve given the chief your letter?”

“I’m not going to give him the letter,” Sokka said pointedly. “You are. After we’ve already left.”

Katara arched an eyebrow but didn’t argue. “And what about the tundra? Zuko already said he didn’t want to walk.” Zuko winced and wished he hadn’t said that. It was true, but he didn’t want Katara to use it against Sokka. “And there are storms coming in just about every day. You could be buried by the snow quicker than you could even react. You could get trapped out there.”

“Not with my firebender by my side,” Sokka said and Zuko suddenly didn’t feel the shame he had felt so strongly just a second ago for being a firebender. He couldn't, not when he was the Water Tribe Prince’s firebender now. “We’ll be fine. I know my way around, Katara, I can handle the tundra, and if the snow’s too much, I’ll make Zuko melt it.”

Katara sighed, but didn’t argue. “You’re sure about this?”

Sokka nodded with relief. “It’s uncomplicating itself.”

Zuko wanted to tell Sokka that this was a bad plan again, but he knew that no matter what he said now, he would still follow the Water Tribe boy wherever he went. It wasn’t a matter of choice, he just knew that he wouldn’t be able to say no when the time actually came. 

Sokka was being kind again. Zuko’s thoughts switched suddenly and his mind pulled him back to Sokka’s dark blue tunic. He wished desperately he could touch it. 

“Then you should come back tomorrow. Use tonight to figure out what you’re going to say to Arnook,” Katara said. 

Sokka’s eyes filled Zuko’s vision as he said, “I don’t want to leave you yet. I left too soon last time.”

“If your plan works, the two of you will have plenty of time later,” Katara reminded him. 

Zuko winced as Sokka seemed to nod. Zuko said, “The guards will be returning soon,” and Sokka nodded again.

Sokka’s eyes shone as he looked at Zuko for a little longer. “Don’t go and get yourself killed before I can get to you again,” he said sternly. 

Zuko’s eyes shone to match as he said, “I’ll be here.”

Sokka stretched his hand through the slats of the cage then. Without thinking, Zuko raised his own hand. Their fingertips brushed, then gripped. 

“Good,” Sokka mumbled and looked like he wanted to say more. 

But he didn’t and when Katara said, “Come on, you’ll just ruin everything by getting caught here,” he reluctantly withdrew his hand from Zuko’s and stood to his feet. 

“Soon,” Sokka breathed. He grabbed his torch and lit it with the burning one on the wall. “Just wait, I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said. 

Sokka stood awkwardly for a moment before pressing a hasty bow towards Zuko. He stood quickly, a blush reddening his cheeks, and retreated out of the prison with one last forlorn look.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think there's a chance I finally know what I'm doing here 😅 but anyways, Sokka's back!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back ~ very excited to finally be posting something. if there are any spelling errors, please blame the fact that my phone has autocorrect off and I had to write most of this on my phone at work

Katara looked as exhausted as Zuko felt, so he didn’t bother trying to talk to her anymore. 

Besides, Zuko’s limbs were already relaxing him onto the floor and it looked like Katara was trying to find a sleeping position on her bench. 

Pretty soon, she found something resembling comfort and the pattern of her breathing told Zuko she was asleep. 

Zuko didn’t want to fall asleep. He wanted to be awake when the guards returned, whenever that would be. 

He tried meditating, but the stillness of his mind just prompted sleep. Against his wishes, he was soon lost in a vivid dream about whatever animal died to make Sokka’s shirt cuffs. 

In his dream, he was about to slay the animal, which he had imagined as a sort of yellow eared rabbit, to make the tunic himself when he was roused by the sound of Katara’s voice. 

She wasn’t talking to him, he realized as he blinked the sleep from his eyes. His head felt too heavy and he found himself wishing he was still sleeping. He dragged his limbs upright against their weary protest. 

The guards were back, four of them this time, along with the chief himself. Pakku was missing from the group, to Zuko’s delight. 

One of the guards was holding the ice water bucket in his hand. He seemed nervous, passing the bucket from hand to hand, spilling some of its water on the ground as it rocked back and forth.

The chief was flustered, his face flushed red. Katara was speaking to him directly. “I said, that’s not necessary.” She gestured to the bucket. 

“I disagree,” the chief said gruffly, but the guard had already set the bucket on the ground. 

Katara leaned in closer, as if she was trying to shield her words from Zuko. She said, “I got the prisoner to reveal that he’s weaker here at the pole. He couldn’t do anything, even if he wanted to.”

The chief glanced over at Zuko then, eyes narrowed. “How did you get him to reveal that?” he asked.

Katara shifted her weight closer towards the chief. “I have my ways,” she said slyly, then feinted a lunge at Zuko.

He flinched accordingly, but couldn’t tell if he was acting or not.

The chief offered a stiff laugh. “What else has he revealed?”

“I know he hasn’t trained to fight a waterbender,” Katara said, which was true, Zuko had never even seen waterbending up close before arriving at the North Pole. “He doesn’t even know what the forms look like,” she said dryly. “I doubt the Fire Nation has been training the rest of its soldiers to take on waterbenders.”

Zuko didn’t like that Katara had actually managed to interrogate him after all. He seemed to find himself regretting it later every time he spoke. 

The chief was pleased. “Seems the Admiral and his Dragon may be underestimating us then.” 

“You should reinforce our team of benders so we can overtake the invasion before it makes it past landing,” Katara said. “Uncle, you know we’d be stronger if you let women benders do more than just heal. We have enough time. If you teach all our benders to fight, not just the men, we could win this. If you just let me train-”.

The chief cut her off by pronouncing her name sharply. 

Katara’s face twisted and she said, “The prisoner also revealed that the firebenders will want to avoid the tundra. They’ll have to approach from the bay.” She scowled at the chief. “Remind me what you’ve managed to learn yourself, Chief Arnook.”

The chief seethed quietly. 

Zuko seethed too, but his anger was directed at the chief. Why shouldn’t women be taught to fight? That seemed like planting weakness to Zuko. No way to justify leaving half the population defenseless against the threat of invasion. 

Not that he was particularly eager for the Water Tribe to defeat Zhao’s attack, he had to remind himself. If the Water Tribe chief wanted to leave a weakness in his defenses, that was none of Zuko’s concern.

Except-

There were shouts in the hallway before a very red faced man rushed in through the doorway. He stopped so suddenly he nearly tripped, then bent a formal bow to the chief. “Excuse me, Chief Arnook,” he said before he fully stood up, “Prince Sokka has requested your presence in your private cabinet. He says it is extremely urgent and you must come immediately.” 

Zuko thought he saw the chief’s eyes bulge. 

“What does he want now?” the chief asked through pressed lips. 

The courier pressed into another bow. “He didn’t say, your elegance. Only that it was a matter of upmost importance and that it would not wait.”

Zuko shot a look at Katara. She returned it with a raise of her eyebrow. Zuko hastily withdrew his gaze before irritability washed over it. 

The chief grumbled, but apathy seemed to already be eating away his anger. “Fine,” he waved his arm, both to Katara and the guards assembled in the room. “Make sure the prisoner doesn’t escape. I don’t care who is watching him as long as he’s here when I return.”

The courier winced and bowed again. “Prince Sokka also requested that you bring the prisoner.” The chief’s eyes narrowed. “He said he doesn’t care how you bring the prisoner, he just wants to say something to him.” 

The chief scoffed. “Of course he has something he wants to say to the prisoner. It’s fine, just as well.” To Zuko he said, “I’m curious how the Prince is handling the letdown you must be to him.”

Must? Zuko thought. 

“You can all go home,” the chief said to the guards. “I will call you back when necessary.” To Katara, he said, “You too. Go back to your life, I’m sure this isn’t how you want to spend your day.”

The courier made a soft squeal and said, “Apologies, Chief Arnook, but Prince Sokka has also asked that Princess Katara be present.”

The chief growled, “And did he say anything else I should know about now?”

The courier squeaked again and bowed very low. “No your grace, that was all he said.”

“I don’t mind,” Katara said.

The chief sighed deeply. “Fine. You can guard the prisoner while we meet with Sokka. Afterwards, I don’t want him to talk to anybody.”

Zuko nodded numbly as Katara did the same. One of the guards unlocked the door to Zuko’s cage and backed away, leaving the door ajar. 

Zuko didn’t stir until the chief said gruffly, “Can you walk, boy?”

Zuko nodded again and stood as steadily as he could manage. He sagged his shoulder against one of the bars of the cage as he used the support to drag himself upwards. 

“Come on, then,” the chief said harshly. “I don’t like waiting.”

Zuko stumbled slightly as he made it out of the cage. A few of the guards still in the room laughed at him as Katara offered her arm for support. He didn’t accept it. 

The chief nodded, but looked displeased. He spun on his heel, turning his back to Zuko, and strode out of the cell room, setting a rapid pace. 

Katara shook her head and pushed Zuko forward by the shoulder. 

Zuko didn’t stumble again as their group moved from the room to the hallway to the stairs, but he was too slow to match the chief’s pace and he was too slow for Katara, who was walking behind him, to avoid occasionally stepping on his heels. 

By the time he and Katara reached the chief waiting for them at the top of the stairs, Zuko was panting softly. The ache of sleep was still heavy on his muscles and the simple exercise had become monumentally difficult for him. 

The chief’s expression was dark, but he hesitated for a moment before continuing, allowing Zuko a chance to catch his breath. 

He didn’t give the boy very long and once Arnook reinitiated their walk, it didn’t take long before Zuko was struggling with his air again. 

The chief moved much faster than Zuko and Katara, he was turning corners before they had even begun the same hallway. If not for Katara’s steady pushing, Zuko would’ve been lost. 

The chief was waiting for them at the entrance to the cabinet. 

Zuko was trying to disguise the pattern of his breath, ineffectively. The chief gave him a strange look.

Zuko made a step forward, but Katara caught him by the shoulder, stopping him.

The chief entered the cabinet first, then Katara gently pushed Zuko forward and they entered the room together. 

The cabinet turned out to just be an office. It was a warm room, if a little small. The walls were disguised by rows of floor to ceiling bookshelves, each packed with documents and books. 

There was a pale blue rug on the floor, leading to an ornate wooden desk. Behind the desk was a chair, the only one in the room. 

Sokka was sitting in this chair, lazily sprawled out over both armrests. He was spinning his boomerang around with one hand.

The chief growled something and Sokka laughed, leaping effortlessly out of the chair and sheathing his boomerang. He didn’t look at Zuko as he said, “Thanks for coming.”

The chief continued to grumble as he assumed the chair. “What is this all about then?” he asked Sokka once he was seated. 

Sokka moved to the side of the desk across from Arnook, turning his back on Zuko and Katara. He reclined his weight against the table a little and said, “I’ve been thinking a lot about what a soulmate means.”

“Oh?” was the chief’s reply.

“When I was a kid, I figured that finding your soulmate was like finding your second half. Like some part of me would be missing until we met.” Sokka waited for a response.

“And was it?” the chief asked and Zuko wondered if the chief had a soulmate. Arnook had blue eyes, which could mean his soulmate was Water Tribe, but could also mean that he didn’t have a soulmate. 

It wasn’t all that common actually to have a soulmate. Neither Zuko’s sister or his father had one. When he had asked Azula how she knew she didn’t have one, she told him that before sleep she could only hear one person’s breathing, which had quieted him. Even as a child, whenever Zuko was alone at night, he could always hear the sound of another person breathing next to him.  
Zuko later had found that that faint sense of his soulmate’s presence was always stronger at night just before he’d fall asleep. One day when he was a little older, Zuko’s mother had told him in secret that bonded soulmates can even visit each other’s dreams. 

“No,” Sokka said like the chief had interrupted him. “I didn’t think that for long. After our mother was killed, I changed my mind. I thought that a soulmate was the person who needed you the most. The person you’d have to fix.” 

The chief looked at Zuko but Sokka’s stare remained stubbornly forward. Sokka said, “I thought that for a long time. That I’d meet my soulmate and somehow I’d fix them, make them right. But now I know better.” Sokka finally turned then and his eyes dragged across the room to Zuko. His face was blank and his eyes were sympathetic as he said, facing Zuko, but still to the chief, “Now I know your soulmate is the one person you could never fix, never change. He’ll be every single thing you hate the most. He’ll ruin everything.”

The chief relaxed into his chair. Arnook’s gaze reached Zuko as Sokka’s eyes returned to the chief. 

The chief examined Zuko, gauging his hurt. Arnook seemed pleased with what he saw. He said smugly, “What do you make of the Fire Prince, then?”

“I could never love him,” Sokka spat back. “I could never love an ashmaker.”

Zuko winced his eyes all the way shut even though he was pretty sure Sokka was acting and it wasn’t like Zuko had ever once in his life asked for his soulmate’s love, much less expected it. It didn’t matter what Zuko was telling himself, though, Sokka’s words had burned Zuko’s ears nonetheless. 

“Good,” the chief said. He nodded at Zuko, then at Sokka. “Have you said all you needed to say then?”

Sokka’s composure cracked for a split second as he shifted his position. “No,” he said, but struggled with his next words. 

“Why am I here?” Katara asked to help him.

Sokka perked up and seemed to regain his mental footing. “Excellent question, Katara. You bring me to my second point.” He grinned at the chief expectantly.

The chief sighed and began to rub a circle against his temple with his thumb. “What is your second point, Prince Sokka?”

“I want to be involved in the interrogation efforts,” Sokka said.

The chief looked unconvinced.

Sokka continued, “Look, you already agreed that the prisoner wasn’t responding to your efforts. I think I can do better.”

“How?” the chief asked wearily.

“I think it will be harder for him to lie to me,” Sokka said and his eyes met Zuko’s again. “Even if he doesn’t mean to, he’s bound to say something when he’s with me.”

The chief measured Zuko’s reaction indifferently before saying, “Fine, you may join us when we interrogate him.”

Sokka shook his head and tried to elaborate something with a flair of his arms. “I have a better idea.” 

Sokka shot a look at Katara and the chief said to her, “Katara, please remove the prisoner so Sokka and I can discuss details.”

“Come on, prisoner,” Katara said and wrapped a hand around Zuko’s shoulder, tugging him towards the door.

He complied, dropping his eyes to the floor as he and Katara exited. Zuko made a point to avoid looking anywhere near Sokka.

Zuko was expecting Katara to lead him all the way away, but she stopped them in the hallway just outside the door to the private room. Nobody moved to close the door, so Zuko could hear Sokka clearly when he said, “Zuko’s going to act like he’s being interrogated as long as he thinks he’s being interrogated.”

Zuko wished he hadn’t heard that. 

The chief sighed again, saying, “Get to the point, Sokka. What are you trying to propose?”

Sokka took his time responding and Zuko imagined him stroking his chin with pointed fingers. “We can’t be keeping him in a cell down there,” was his voice and Zuko imagined Sokka smirking at the chief.

“Explain,” was Arnook.

“He should stay with me. If he’s with me all the time, I can watch him and gain his trust.” 

“Even while you sleep, Prince Sokka?”

Sokka sucked the air through his teeth. “If he tries anything, I’ll wake up,” he tried.

But the chief dismissed him, “He’ll stay in the prison and you will visit him there.”

“That won’t work.” Zuko was learning how well Sokka toed the line between relentless and irritating.

The chief said, “Fine, he spends an hour with you outside the prison in the afternoon,” and Zuko could hear his frown.

“He spends the day with me and sleeps in the prison, or he’ll never relax enough to talk.” 

“Two hours in the afternoon.” The chief’s tone indicated a finality Zuko was sure even Sokka wouldn’t test.

But Sokka said, “And meals with me too.”

“Enough. Two meals a day and two hours in the afternoon. He’ll spend the rest alone in his cell. Be satisfied.”

“That won’t work either. Chief Arnook, he already trusts Katara. She should be the one guarding him.”

The chief was flustered. “Your sister is very busy with her training. She doesn’t have all day to cater to your whims.”

“She wants to help stop the invasion and anyways she doesn’t have any more training. You and Master Pakku agreed last week she’d mastered healing.” There was a slight tease in Sokka’s voice. “Unless you’re gonna train her for combat.”

Next to Zuko, Katara bristled with pride, though her expression was surprise. 

Zuko startled when the chief’s hand slapped down on the desk. 

Chief Arnook said, “No, Katara can’t be the only guard. I will appoint men, Sokka.”

“He needs to trust his guards too, though. If Katara gains his trust her own way, we’ll get more information than if I’m the only he talks to.”

“Katara cannot spend all night with the prisoner every night until the invasion. She’ll never agree.”

“She’ll agree,” Sokka pressed. “And Yue’s offered to watch him when Katara needs a break.”

The chief gasped audibly at the mention of his daughter. “She has?” he managed.

It sounded like Sokka was moving, not towards the door but somewhere around the room, as he said, “Yue wants to help and Zuko already knows her too. She wants a chance to question him and he’ll probably open up if there aren’t any of your men around.”

The chief seemed at a loss for words. 

“I have a good feeling about this,” Sokka said.

The chief growled, “I don’t, Sokka.” Sokka began to protest, but the chief cut his cries off by continuing, “But I’m curious and I don’t want to argue any more today. We’ll try it. If the Princesses want to waste their time on playing guard, I’ll allow it, and you can spend some time alone with him. But if he makes a single move, anything that Katara or you or my daughter can’t handle, it’s over. I won’t want to hear another word from you about my methods. Remember this prisoner is not your responsibility, he’s mine.” 

“Great!” Sokka sounded genuinely excited. “It’s settled then, Zuko can spend the rest of the day with me and Katara will watch him tonight.”

The chief sighed. “No, Sokka. Katara needs to rest today and you’re needed in war meetings soon.” 

Sokka made a sound of upset.

The chief said, “For now, he’ll go back to the prison where he will just have to wait until you’re not busy. And after the meetings, I’ll be the first to have a word alone with the Fire Prince. I’ll send him to you when I’m done.” The chief sounded like he was waving his arm to dismiss Sokka. He said, “You may escort Katara and the prisoner back to his cell, if you want. Figure out between yourselves who will be guarding him. And if, on your way, you see a courier, send him in here. I need to discuss this plan of yours. Come back when you’re ready, Sokka, if you want the council to hear your side.”

“Understood,” Sokka said. His feet moved towards the door and he joined Zuko and Katara in the hall while the chief breathed a frustrated sigh at his desk.

Katara and Zuko were standing close together and Sokka was able to sling an arm over each of their shoulders, sandwiching himself in the middle. Zuko felt a deep shiver where Sokka’s arm was touching the bare skin of his back and neck. 

Sokka grinned, first at Zuko, who blinked back, then at Katara, who raised her eyebrows.

“I did it,” Sokka said like they hadn’t been listening.

“Barely,” Katara scoffed. “You got two hours with Zuko. And I don’t believe that Yue volunteered to help with this.”

Sokka’s grin remained. “No, I negotiated multiple hours alone with Zuko.” He pushed the trio forward and they walked down the hall, away from the chief’s ears. “And why wouldn’t Yue help with this?”

Katara stopped dead in her tracks, forcing them all to an uneven halt. Her pointed gaze was fixed on Sokka.

“Did you tell her what we were doing?” Katara asked, suspicious. 

“Of course I told her!” Sokka sounded genuinely hurt by her accusation.

“And she’s just fine with it? She thinks your plan will work?”

The sound of approaching footsteps silenced the trio and Sokka’s arms darted down to his sides. 

When the approacher neared, Sokka said, “The chief wants to see you,” and jerked his thumb back towards the cabinet. The man seemed surprised, but bowed and followed the directed course, asking no questions. 

Katara began to walk again, setting a quick pace for the group. 

Zuko followed. 

Sokka shrugged, then leapt forward a few steps to catch up and threw his arm around Zuko’s shoulders again. Zuko almost avoided flinching. 

Sokka shot him a look, then said to Katara, “Of course she isn’t okay with it. That’s why she wants to help. That’s why she wants to talk to him herself.” He looked back at Zuko. 

“Seemed like she didn’t like me much,” Zuko said because he felt like he was expected to respond.

“Don‘t worry, you grow on people,” Sokka said with a laugh and Zuko’s stomach moved. “She just needs to talk to you and realize she’s wrong about you. And then she can say good things about you to her father.”

“She wants to interrogate him,” Katara said and Zuko winced away from Sokka’s touch. There she went, reminding Zuko of his place here. Reminding him how easily manipulatable he was. How no matter what the conversation was, his words could be picked apart and evaluated until they were treasonous. He didn’t mean to keep helping the Water Tribe.

Sokka looked hurt, but let his arm fall. “She doesn’t want to interrogate him,” he said to both of them. “She just wants to talk to him.”

They reached the stairs to the prison, but Katara spun to face Sokka instead of beginning the forward descent. “What if I don’t want to guard Zuko? You didn’t even ask me.”

“Do you not want to stay with Zuko?”

Katara looked like she bit her tongue. “Forget it.” She spun again and began the stairs, her pace rushed.

Sokka shrugged at Zuko. His eyes asked, what’s her problem?

Zuko shook his head and refused a smile. He followed Katara.

When they reached Zuko’s cell, the group realized that none of them had a set of keys. 

“Stroke of luck!” Sokka said. “We can take him to my room now.”

“The chief’s probably already wondering where you are, Sokka.”

Sokka groaned but she was right. 

“I’ll figure this out. You should go so no one gets suspicious,” Katara continued. 

Sokka was looking at Zuko, who echoed, “You should go, then.”

Sokka clearly wasn’t ready to leave, but he couldn’t formulate a good argument for why he should stay. “Before I forget,” he said, balancing his weight from one foot to the other, “Yue gave me these for you.” He retrieved a stack of folded papers from the pocket of his parka and handed them to Katara.

She accepted the gift with a small smile. “Exciting,” she said. Without unfolding them, she shoved the papers into her own pocket. 

Sokka looked stung as his gaze shifted from Katara to Zuko, then back to Katara. “So I should go, then?” he asked as if he wanted one of them to say no.

“Mhm,” Katara said, already walking towards her makeshift ice bench. 

“I’ll see you tonight, then,” Sokka said to Zuko. “I’ll have more of a plan.”

Zuko didn’t say anything until Sokka was passing through the door to leave. “Good luck,” he said to Sokka’s back. Sokka didn’t hear him and then he was alone with Katara again. 

Zuko stood awkwardly while Katara surveyed him from her seat. Eventually, she raised her arms and lazily coaxed another block of ice from the wall behind Zuko, creating a bench for him. 

He sat gratefully and Katara pulled the papers out of her pocket. Her brow furrowed as she concentrated on them and Zuko didn’t feel like interrupting. 

After a while, she pressed the papers flat next to her on the bench and stood. She assumed a position and Zuko figured she was going to practice waterbending again.

She ran through the form dry first. 

It looked simple to Zuko, if somewhat familiar. 

Katara moved through the form again without adding water. Zuko’s eyes narrowed. Something looked wrong, but he couldn’t pinpoint it.

When she tried the form again, adding water from the neglected bucket this time, the water responded strangely. It formed a limp arrow as she pulled it around her back, but when she tried to push it forward, over her shoulder, it became spray. 

She shot an angry look at Zuko who tore his eyes away quickly. 

Grumbling, Katara stomped over to the papers. She scoured them, still grumbling, then gathered the water from the floor, resumed the position, and tried the form again.

Zuko’s feeling of recognition was stronger as Katara’s form strengthened. He was sure he’d seen this before, somehow.

Katara tried balancing her feet differently, but the result of her effort was the same: a splash of water against the floor and wall.

“Try keeping your fingers straight,” Zuko mumbled, noticing that her fingers curled each time she tried the movement. Zuko’s face flushed as he realized Katara definitely didn’t want his advice.  
Katara agreed easily, though, and tried the form again with straight fingers. The water she was manipulating didn’t look as limp this time, but when she shot it over her shoulder, it didn’t do anything impressive.

She seemed frustrated and stomped back over to the papers. She scooped them up, crumpling the pages with the force of her grip, and marched towards Zuko. She shoved the handful of papers in his face, asking angrily, “Can you decipher this, then?”

Zuko’s eyes tried to focus on the drawings directly in front of his nose. Although the quality of the art was good, it looked like it had been hastily drawn. 

It was a depiction of a waterbending form, but Zuko thought the artist had neglected to draw a few stages. 

Suddenly his eyes widened with recognition and he jerked his head back from the papers. “I know what this is,” Zuko said. The drawings were the waterbending form he had glimpsed while he and Sokka had gone to see Yue. 

Yue had been watching the benders when they approached her. Zuko remembered how she had shoved papers into her pocket when they interrupted her. She must have been copying their training so she could share it with Katara. 

“Sokka took me to see Yue. I saw the benders practicing,” Zuko explained. “This is what they were doing.”

“What am I missing, then?” Katara placed the papers back in her pocket. 

Zuko tried to remember what he had seen, but the waterbenders had been so far away that day. “Try keeping your left arm in front of you. You keep moving it a little when you move the other one,” he suggested finally.

Katara tried it. 

The effect was impressive. This time, she forced her left arm still while her right arm rotated the water behind her back. When she shot the water forward over her shoulder, she kept the fingers on her right hand straight, and the water hardened to ice as it flew past her. 

It crashed into the wall with a crunch, breaking against it into a spray of ice. One of the flying ice shards caught Zuko on the jaw. He winced but was pleased. 

“I did it!” Katara cried in disbelief. 

Zuko smiled at her. “That looked good,” he said. 

“Thank you,” Katara said.

“Pakku should be training you.”

“Yes.” She nodded sadly. “Yes, he should.”

“You deserve a teacher,” Zuko said.

Katara rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “You’d make a good teacher,” she said and Zuko felt that they weren’t talking about her waterbending anymore.

“I’m sorry I told the chief what you said to me,” Katara said after a while. “You probably don’t think you can trust me.”

Zuko wasn’t expecting an apology so he said gruffly, “It’s fine.”

Katara sighed. “It’s not fine. I know you don’t like it.” She sighed again. “Sokka’s right, this isn’t a good place for you to be. You know too much and you don’t even realize it.”

“It’s fine,” Zuko repeated.

“You’re bound to help us, you know. If you wanted the Fire Nation to destroy us, you would’ve made that clear. But every time you talk, you say something helpful. Am I supposed to ignore that?”

“No,” Zuko said. shaking his head. “It’s not on purpose.” 

Katara didn’t believe him but she was saved from having to answer by the sound of footsteps in the hall. “Arnook,” she groaned and Zuko sprang to his feet. Barely, he thought he could distinguish the sounds of two sets of footsteps. 

The chief looked upset when he entered the room. “What is the prisoner doing out of his cell?” he asked Katara angrily.

She raised her eyebrows. “You didn’t give me the key.”

The chief sighed and examined the benches Katara made. “You may leave, Katara. Yue is waiting in the hall.”

Katara’s chin rose. “Be careful,” she said to no one in particular and left the room. As she passed the door, she waved the straight fingers of her right hand and the ice door slammed shut behind her. 

“Sit,” the chief commanded Zuko.

Zuko sat and looked up at the chief. His shoulders ached particularly, but under the burning gaze of Chief Arnook, he tried to straighten them, feeling self conscious about his posture. 

“I’m not here to interrogate you,” the chief said. “I would’ve brought guards for that.” Zuko fought to keep his eyes from dropping to the floor. “No, I’m here with a warning.”

Zuko tried to force his eyes blank as the chief drew closer. “I’m not-” Zuko started.

The chief drew to his full height and closed the distance between them. Zuko dropped his gaze and remembered his place. He hadn’t been asked to speak. 

The chief said, “Sokka thinks he has you figured out, but my mind is still unmade. I won't pretend like I have an idea of your intentions, but I do know you aren’t as innocent as you act. When the trick is finally up, I will take great pleasure in removing you personally. You look surprised. Your audacity surprises me, Prince Zuko. The son of the Firelord and the Prince of the Northern Water Tribe? How dare you come here?”

“My other option was fighting off your men and trying to flee,” Zuko said sullenly. He had just told himself that he didn’t really care what Chief Arnook did to him. Better to die with his honor intact and refuse the chief to his face.

Some semblance of his honor at least. 

Maybe.

“I’m not here to fight,” Zuko said into the chief’s shocked silence. 

“You’re a brat,” the chief said. “A spoiled brat whose mind can’t comprehend anything outside the four walls of his room at father’s palace and the lies he thinks are facts. You think you’re clever? That I won’t find a way to break you?” 

Zuko bit back words. 

Arnook was standing directly in front of him now. He was so tall. 

From his seat, Zuko’s vision was dominated by the chief who seemed taller than the cell Zuko could barely see in the background. 

The chief said, “I’m glad Sokka wants to play a game with you before everything happens. I can’t decide if I think it’s sweet or misguided of him, but either way, I think you’ll feel like talking more quite soon.” 

Zuko’s shoulder blades flexed towards each other and he tried to drill through the floor beneath him with his eyes. 

“You’re weak, Prince Zuko. Growing weaker by the day. You feel it too, in the desperate way you’ve been latching on to them, blindly offering your trust hoping they might return theirs. But you will not feel this way for long. Rest assured, this will all be over soon.”

In his periphery, Zuko could see the chief’s feet retread. Before he reached the doorway, the chief said over his shoulder, “I suggest you reflect on loyalty, Zuko. Betrayal, too.”

Zuko’s eyes flashed to the back of Anrook’s neck. There wasn’t anything to say, the chief was already gone, but Zuko’s mouth opened stubbornly. He was gaping when Yue took her first few hesitant steps into the room.

Zuko shook his head, swallowing hard. He looked down at the floor as he rose to his feet. 

He heard Katara’s footsteps and her voice behind Yue, “Yue thinks it will only be a few hours until Sokka’s available and I need to lay down on a bed for a little- Oh sorry, Zuko. But Yue doesn’t have the key to the cell either, so it looks like- Hey, are you okay?”

Zuko tried to force his expression blank, but even looking at the ground still, he knew he failed. He felt too sick to conceal it. The thought occurred that the chief was right. Zuko wasn’t thinking straight, he hadn’t been since arriving. Since before that even. It wouldn’t take much more for him to do anything. Say anything.

His stomach lurched dangerously and Zuko keeled over. He tried to turn the movement into something resembling a bow towards Katara as he mumbled, “Mhm,” with tightly pressed lips. He sat and Yue took another cautious step into the room. 

“What did my father want?” Yue asked. 

Zuko’s mouth felt dry. “He just wanted to talk.”

Yue laughed dryly. “So the prisoner’s real chatty, huh?” Yue asked Katara.

“Yeah,” Katara chirped. “Next few hours should be a breeze.” She seemed eager to leave. 

Yue nodded at her. “It’ll be fine,” she said and Katara left. Zuko was almost sad to see her go, but the pain in his stomach was all he could really think about. 

Zuko was trying to avoid acknowledging Yue, but this seemed to be making her uncomfortable. She was pacing around a little, nervously, and she was wringing her hands in front of her. Eventually she sat on Katara’s bench opposite Zuko with a huff and Zuko said, “Why are you here?”

“I just want to talk,” she said and it was almost mocking. 

Zuko sucked his teeth and pointed his gaze at his right foot. He focused on digging his toes into the dirt. 

Eventually, Yue sighed and said, “Sokka told me about his plan.”

“Okay,” was Zuko’s indifferent response.

“You really think it’s the right thing to do?” she asked.

Zuko shrugged and regretted it instantly. The stress of his chained wrists behind his back was a searing pain in his shoulders by now. It was better not to move them, Zuko thought with a wince.

“Sokka could die,” she said and Zuko winced again.

“He’s not going to die,” Zuko said, finding himself unable to keep quiet any longer. “It’s his plan anyways. It’s not like I could stop him.”

“You could tell him no,” Yue said firmly. 

Zuko shook his head and blew some air from his mouth. “I tried.”

“Clearly not hard enough.”

“Why are you so worried?” Zuko demanded. He still had a sneaking suspicion that this “escape attempt” was actually just what Sokka told the chief it was.  
He hoped he could catch Yue in the lie, but something about her demeanor shocked him. She looked concerned. Deeply.

“This might be hard for you to believe,” Yue said in a tone that cut, “but Sokka matters to a lot of people here. Not just to our people, or to my father, or to Katara, but to me too.” Her voice choked with emotion. “You were never supposed to meet him.”

“I know,” Zuko said in a tone to match.

“Then why are you letting him do this? He’s risking everything for you and you don’t even care.”

“I do care,” Zuko growled. “I just can’t do anything about it.”

“Everything he loves is here, Zuko.”

“I’m not trying to take him away from you.”

Yue looked shocked. Then angry. “That’s exactly what you’re doing. You’re stealing him away from me. There was a plan and it never involved you and now you’re here and I can’t even remember anymore why the plan didn’t include you. He was almost happy with his life here, but now that he’s got you, that’s all he wants and now I see that all he ever wanted was you. Everything else was just a distraction.”

Zuko was surprised. “What do you want me to do?” he asked slowly. 

“I wish you hadn’t come.” She sighed. “But I think that’s selfish of me. Deep down, I think I want Sokka to have you. It makes him happy that you’re so close within reach now.”

“If he ends up going through with this, I could leave him outside the city. He’d have to come back.” Zuko thought this was a sacrifice he could manage. 

“No, don’t do that,” Yue said and Zuko could tell she meant it. “You’ll break his heart doing that.” She sighed and Zuko nodded his head to meet her eyes. “We’re engaged, he and I, but he probably didn’t tell you that, did he?”

Her words echoed in Zuko’s ears. He blinked a few times through the fog of confusion. 

Yue continued with another sigh, “It doesn’t matter now. The council just thought you’d never show up. It’s not like they were going to let Sokka fight his way through the Fire Nation to find you. It didn’t even matter who any of us guessed you were, they figured there was no chance of a meeting.” 

Zuko nodded obediently. 

Yue said, “Sokka and I got along from a young age. We liked each other and I suppose we were good friends. Neither of us opposed marriage when my father proposed it to us. It would have been an amicable union and Sokka would finally have had real political power. He wanted to use it to reconnect the Northern and Southern tribes.” She shook her head fondly. “I always knew we weren’t soulmates, but you have to understand, I do love him. And I know he loves me too.”

Zuko nodded again. This made sense. Of course the Water Tribe would have planned a marriage for Sokka to keep him from running off with some Fire Nation scum. Of course Sokka would have fallen in love with his fiancee. He would’ve been happy with her for the rest of his life if Zuko had just stayed his stupid course and not ruined everything. “I didn’t mean to do this,” he said softly.

“I know,” Yue said bitterly, “but it’s for the best. Unless you get Sokka killed, in which case, I’ll kill you myself.”

“I’m not what’s best for Sokka,” Zuko said in the same tone.

“Don’t make me argue with you. I don’t think this is good for Sokka either, really, but I don’t think the problem is you. I just think this is a stupid plan and you’re both going to get caught. And even if you don’t get caught, they’re going to think you kidnapped him. I don’t see a way this ends well for either of you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Zuko said.

There was a beat of silence.

“Don’t put him in a position where he has to abandon his people just to be with you,” Yue said eventually.

Zuko almost asked, what about my people, but something stopped him. 

A part of him was thinking that as long as Ozai was Fire Lord, there wasn’t any way he could protect his people. He’d already tried speaking out once. He wasn’t eager to try again.

He still understood Sokka’s sense of duty, though. He could respect it.

“I didn’t ask him to do this,” Zuko said.

Yue was quiet for a long time before she said, “If Sokka can find it within himself to act selflessly towards you without you having to ask, I’m sure you can do the same. If you really care about him, you’ll figure out what his best interests are and act on that. You’ll protect him.”

Zuko nodded. “I will protect him,” he assured Yue. 

She nodded back. “Good,” she said with finality. “Now what can I do to help so that nothing goes wrong with your plan?”

There was silence for a while, punctuated by the occasional sound of dropping water somewhere in the other room. 

“Tell them I kidnapped him,” Zuko said painfully.

Yue looked at him patronizingly. “Why?”

“In case we get caught,” he said. “Tell them I kidnapped him so he’ll still return with his honor if the plan fails. Keep both of you out of it.”

“I didn’t mean that selfless,” Yue mumbled instead of agreeing to Zuko’s request. 

Zuko’s brow furrowed and he huffed a short sigh, but said nothing. 

The pair was silent, both glaring at each other, for a long time before the sound of footsteps in the hallway met their ears. 

Quickly Zuko pressed, “You’ll tell them, then? That whatever happens is my fault? Please.”

Yue just shook her head. Before the footsteps reached the door, she said, “I haven’t decided yet.”

Only one man entered through the door. He bowed first to Yue then moved towards Zuko, grabbing the boy by the shoulder and hauling him to his feet. Zuko yelped with the pain that tore through his body as the man manipulated his shoulder. 

“Where are you taking him?” Yue asked.

“To the Prince’s chambers,” the guard replied and Yue was satisfied. She let the man push Zuko out of the cell room and back up the stairs, following closely behind.

She didn’t stop until they reached what Zuko recognized as Sokka’s hallway. She sighed and offered Zuko a glance, before she turned around and walked back the way they had come. 

Zuko was then pushed down the hall towards Sokka’s room. 

When the guard shoved Zuko through the door frame, he realized that Sokka wasn’t alone in the room. 

There were three or four other people inside; it was hard to tell the exact number because they were all moving around, fussing with anything. One was adjusting the spread of food on Sokka’s table, rushing back and forth between a cart by the door and the table. Another was hauling laundry between Sokka’s bed, wardrobe, and a little room connected to Sokka’s by an internal door Zuko hadn’t seen earlier. The servants’ work had rendered the room warm and inviting. They had lit every light and the room seemed alive in the glow of the flickering flame. 

Sokka was standing in the center of the room, his back to the door. He was wearing a short tunic now, a light blue thing with a narrow white trim, cut just above his knees. His hair was down and Zuko studied this intently.

Sokka stood, calling random commands to the servants, but nobody was listening. 

The guard held Zuko by the shoulder awkwardly in the doorway. He cleared his throat a little, but the sound was lost in the chaos of the room. He tried again, louder, and Sokka spun to finally notice them. 

“Ah, just who I wanted to see,” Sokka said and winked at the guard. 

The guard just offered a frustrated sigh and pushed Zuko away from him, into the room. 

Sokka caught Zuko with a hand on his chest before he could trip over his unsteady feet onto the floor. 

Zuko’s heart pounded wildly against Sokka’s fingertips and he blushed.

“You’re not leaving yet,” Sokka yelled after the guard, who reappeared momentarily, a look of confusion on his face. “The prisoner is eating dinner with me.” He put particular emphasis on the word “dinner”. “He needs his hands.”

The guard grunted and fished a keyring from his pocket. He moved towards Zuko, but Sokka removed his hand from Zuko’s chest and waved it to the guard to stop him. “You can leave the key with me,” Sokka said. “I might need it again.”

The guard callously threw the key at Sokka, who caught it deftly. The man grumbled something as he left the room again. 

“Great!” Sokka said as he turned towards the room. “You can all leave, then,” he said to the servants, who bowed and took their time leaving. 

Sokka undid the chains binding Zuko’s wrists as the last of the servants, of which Zuko counted five, left the room. 

When Sokka was done, he touched his hand to a spot on Zuko’s back under his shoulder blades and tried to gently push him to a chair at the table. 

Zuko spun away from the touch. He tried to roll his wrists as he looked sullenly at Sokka. “Is this real?” he asked, but he hadn’t meant to speak.

Sokka’s eyes were soft. So soft. “This is real,” he said.

Zuko felt himself speak again unwillingly. “Did you mean what you said to Arnook earlier? About a soulmate being everything you hate?”

Sokka looked sad. “It’s complicated," he said.

Zuko felt stupid. Of course it was. “Everyone thinks you’re right for hating the Fire Nation,” he said to remind Sokka.

Sokka looked like he didn’t want to hear this. He said, “I mean you are, technically everything I thought I hated. Fire nation royalty. Literally Fire Lord Ozai’s son. And a firebender too.” Guilt crept into Sokka’s expression as he spoke. “But I don’t actually hate you at all, so I think maybe that is the point of soulmates.” His breath caught, interrupting himself for a moment. “And I didn’t mean it when I said I couldn’t love you. That was a lie.”

Zuko shook his head. He realized, and his stomach sank, that Sokka had said exactly what the least restrained part of Zuko’s mind wanted to hear.

“You’re shaking,” Sokka said, his eyes on Zuko’s chest. 

Zuko didn’t speak and Sokka’s hand drifted to the spot his eyes were studying. Zuko’s breath stopped as Sokka’s fingertips connected to his bare skin. He felt warmth transfer from Sokka’s hands and wanted to lose his mind to the feeling. 

Sokka’s hand rested there for a moment, then traced a line upwards, softly brushing across Zuko’s collar bone to the side of his neck. Sokka’s fingers curled gently, pressing against the taut tendons of Zuko’s neck, breaking up some of their strain with his steady pressure. 

Zuko’s head sagged into the relief washing over his body. 

Sokka’s fingers moved slightly and found a new spot on Zuko’s neck to massage. A short shiver electrified Zuko’s spine, but he felt calm. He felt as the tension bled out of his body into Sokka’s fingers. He exhaled softly.

Sokka used his other hand to brush Zuko’s hair off of his forehead. Zuko’s eyelids fluttered as he felt Sokka’s fingers across his face.

Sokka breathed a quiet sigh and searched Zuko’s eyes. He said, “You can trust me.”

Zuko believed him. 

Sokka’s hand was still wrapped against the back of Zuko’s neck but he stopped the massaging of his fingers to say, “Are you hungry? Cold? Tired?”

Zuko nodded, then gulped. 

Sokka’s hand was moving upwards slightly. His fingertips met the bottom of Zuko’s hairline and Zuko felt himself move closer to Sokka unconsciously. When Sokka’s hand slipped further up and gently grasped at Zuko’s hair, Zuko flustered. He choked out, “Cold,” and tried not to cough.

Sokka’s hand squeezed the back of Zuko’s head, then released and dropped to Zuko’s shoulder. Sokka said, “Okay” and Zuko’s body shook with the inevitable shiver that had been waiting in his spine.

Sokka smiled at him, then pushed his shoulder a little, urging him to walk further into the room. 

Zuko tried not to wince, but even with his hands free, his shoulders still ached. “Where?” he asked and Sokka pointed towards the door Zuko hadn’t noticed last time. 

When Zuko walked into the side chamber, he was met with the overpowering fragrances of lavender and eucalyptus. 

This room was much warmer than the bedroom and was fogged by a thick cloak of steam. Zuko immediately felt his shoulders relax. 

Sokka nudged him forward into the room and as Zuko walked further into it, its features became clearer. In one corner, he saw a basin for handwashing and a toilet. There was a massive mirror on one wall and in the room’s middle was an ornate bathtub. 

Zuko headed towards the tub. The fog thinned as he approached and he saw that the tub had already been drawn. Purple-pink water swirled around it lazily, a layer of steam rising from the water’s surface. 

He looked back at Sokka, who was grinning. “That work?” Sokka asked.

Zuko’s eyes turned back to the tub as he nodded. 

He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d bathed properly. Certainly couldn’t remember ever bathing in water this inviting. 

The smell of eucalyptus rising from the water tempted Zuko’s nostrils as Sokka handed him a bar of soap. 

Sokka nodded at him, still smiling, and exited the room politely.

Zuko waited until he could determine that Sokka was on the other side of the bedroom before he stripped his pants and even then, his face still burned red as he tossed the clothes aside. 

He tossed a look over his shoulder at the door to the bathroom and seeing no sign of Sokka, turned back to dip a cautious toe in the warm water. 

He sighed audibly with relief, finding the water the perfect temperature. 

Peace washed over him then as he sunk his entire body below the purple water and relaxed into the comfort of its heat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahh I could've written more for this, but I'm deciding to give bath time fluff its own chapter so stay tuned! I will post soon!


	10. Chapter 10

The bar of soap felt heavy in Zuko’s hand.

He passed it around over his palm with wet fingers, working it into a lather. The iridescent soap bubbles glistened in the soft light of the room and smelled of citrus.

Zuko closed his eyes, inhaling the scent deeply. He hadn’t smelled citrus since leaving the Fire Nation and the fragrance made him strangely nostalgic. Not for his father, but maybe for the coolness of the polished marble floors of the palace and the way the scent of the fruit trees in the garden would fill the halls when the windows had been left open. 

Fruit must be a luxury here in the North Pole. 

Zuko worked some of the lather over his shoulders, pressing delicately though he wasn’t met with any pain.

It felt nice.

He stopped his work with the soap and let himself sink deeper into the water until his chin was just barely submerged. 

Zuko felt a sigh build up within him. When he released it, a cloud of flame passed over the water from his nostrils. He opened his eyes to watch the flames disappear into the steam of the room and only felt the slightest momentary panic.

But Zuko was content to feel the strength of his inner flame deep within his chest. Firebending for Katara earlier had taken up the last of his reserved energy. 

He looked across the room then to the door, which Sokka had left ajar. Through it, Zuko could see into the bedroom and across it to the window. 

He thought he heard Sokka humming and in a moment Sokka appeared in front of the window. He was tugging the curtains shut, blocking out the last light of the day. 

Zuko pulled himself a little out of the water, just enough that his chest was exposed, and made to wash his body. He passed the bar from his right hand to his left, but with his bad left eye, he misjudged the switch and the soap slipped between his fingers with a slap onto the floor. 

“You alright?” Sokka called absentmindedly. 

Zuko watched Sokka turn towards him, then he tore his eyes away and looked down at the soap next to him. 

He didn’t want to get out of the bath, Sokka was already looking, but he needed the soap. 

Zuko found the words difficult. “Can you help me?” he asked carefully and in a moment he thought that that wasn’t the right thing to say.

But Sokka was agreeing and entering the bathroom and there was nothing Zuko could do but watch as Sokka spotted the soap, approached it, and collected it. 

Sokka smiled at Zuko and palmed the soap carefully. It was still wet, and a little lathered, but Sokka wasn’t generating more foam. Just flipping it over in his hand.

Zuko was mesmerized.

He didn’t even realize Sokka was approaching the tub until Sokka was directly in front of him. 

Sokka blinked at him with warm eyes and continued to smile in a way that was both cautious and inviting. Zuko wanted to memorize the line of Sokka’s top teeth. 

Sokka’s eyes were wandering over Zuko’s face, resting on his chin, then his lips, then his ears, then finally his hair.

Zuko’s eyes found the soap in Sokka’s hand again. He rasped, “Can you?” but didn’t finish his thought. 

Sokka seemed a little startled but regained attention with a curt nod that quickly relaxed back to an easy smile. He kneeled suddenly by the tub and Zuko felt like he’d forgotten every word he’d ever known.

“Lean back,” Sokka said and Zuko obeyed without thinking. His shoulders met the lip of the tub and Sokka caught his head with his free hand. 

Zuko almost sighed again as he relaxed into the pressure of Sokka’s fingertips, but his breath was cut off by the suddenness of Sokka’s other hand on his hairline. 

Zuko couldn’t breathe for a moment as Sokka ran the bar of soap over the top of his hair. 

He only took a breath when Sokka said, “Here, hold this,” bringing him back to himself. He drew a hand upwards from the water and Sokka pressed the bar of soap into it. 

Zuko’s fingers clenched around the soap, digging lines into its soft, malleable shape as Sokka ran his fingers through Zuko’s hair from his forehead to the crown of his head. 

His left hand shifted to the side, under Zuko’s left ear now, and he brought his right hand to the same spot under Zuko’s right ear. He used both hands to cup the back of Zuko’s head, rubbing the soap into the hair in circles with his thumbs. 

Zuko’s eyes closed and he felt something rising in his throat. A mumble escaped his lips as Sokka began to rub Zuko’s scalp with his fingertips as well as thumbs. 

After a while, Zuko’s head was being rolled around while Sokka made sure to scrub every section. 

As Sokka finished scrubbing and began drawing straight lines with his fingers from Zuko’s hairline to the nape of his neck, Zuko felt himself twitch. His right foot pushed against the wall of the tub, shoving his body closer to Sokka. 

Sokka responded by firming his grip. His little finger brushed across Zuko’s ear and Zuko turned his head towards the sensation, pressing into Sokka’s finger. His heart was a drum in his ears and the blood in his face felt like it was boiling. 

He couldn’t hear anything over the rush of his own blood. His mind tried to retain focus on the feeling of Sokka, but in his deafness, his mind conjured Arnook’s voice accusing Zuko of desperation. Zuko’s stomach flipped and he wondered if the chief had seen right through him then. 

Did he want this too much? Shouldn’t he be trying harder to control his want? For Sokka’s sake, at least.

Zuko groaned and sank away from Sokka, back into the water. He let the water rise up over his chin, over his ears, over his forehead, until he was completely submerged. 

He could still see Sokka a little, leaning over the tub, distorted through the murky water. Zuko couldn’t see Sokka’s expression, so he closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose, releasing a stream of bubbles to the surface. 

He reflected a moment, waiting for his air to inevitably run out and force his return to the surface. 

Was this what it felt like to be desperate for someone’s attention? He’d never once begged for love in his life, but it felt like that was what he was doing now. Begging for Sokka to touch him. To want him.

Unless– the thought occurred to Zuko –Sokka was just as desperate.

Zuko let himself think about this for a moment, then almost laughed. Yeah, right. The thought that Sokka, the one with a fiancee and a lifetime of political achievement ahead of him, would be desperate for Zuko, felt absurd. What did Zuko even have to offer except his silence and loyalty to the Fire Nation?

Another group of bubbles rose to the surface from Zuko’s nose. 

Reluctantly, he dragged his head out of the water for a breath of air and a look at Sokka’s face. 

Sokka was still kneeling next to the tub. He was looking down into it and when Zuko rose, he had to lean back to give Zuko enough space. He looked concerned. “What’s wrong?” he tried, asking like he was afraid of the answer.

Zuko bit the inside of his cracked lip and looked sullenly at a spot on Sokka’s chin to avoid the gold eyes Zuko knew would pierce him. “I talked with Yue.” 

“What’d she say?” 

Zuko’s silence told Sokka all he needed to know. 

Zuko watched as Sokka creased his forehead before he dropped his head, bringing the fingers of one hand to the crumpled bridge of his nose. “She told you, didn’t she?”

Zuko bobbed a little lower into the bath, turning his gaze from Sokka to the opposite wall of the tub, and mumbled an incoherent acknowledgement.

“What did she say exactly?”

Zuko didn’t reply.

Sokka sighed and it sounded like he was crossing his legs beneath him. “Did she say I loved her?” 

Zuko continued to sulk.

“Because I don’t.” Sokka’s voice was beginning to fluster. “I mean, I do, but not like that. I mean I love her like I love a lot of other people, but I don’t love her. I mean, I care about her and I thought maybe there was a chance I wasn’t going to live long enough to get a chance at anything else. I mean at this.”

Zuko reluctantly drew himself out of the water enough to see Sokka. He placed his right hand on the wall of the tub and rested his chin on top of it. 

Sokka was looking down. One hand was still curled under the bridge of his nose to support his head and the other was tracing a shape on the floor. Zuko watched Sokka’s bottom lip as he said, “She doesn’t really get it. She tries, but she doesn’t know why I do what I do. I mean I don’t think she can. At least not without seeing the world. All she’s ever known is the city and the walls and the isolation. She doesn’t know why we have to fight.”

Zuko took his left hand out of the bath, collecting some of the water with curled fingers. He poked his fingers straight, and the touch of water cascaded outward, landing on Sokka, colorful glistening droplets against his white hair. One landed on his cheek and broke, dripping in a pink trail down to his chin. 

Sokka immediately straightened his spine and flung his hands to his hair, pressing the droplets in so they left a faint damp pink trace. He stuck his fingers into his hair and shook it wildly.  
As he moved, he disrupted the droplets on his clothes and they sunk into the blue fabric, dotting it with purple. 

“Hey,” Sokka exclaimed, but it was soft. 

Zuko laughed, a real laugh from deep in his chest, and Sokka’s expression brightened. Zuko smiled and he tried not to let Sokka see how fast his mind was racing.

Sokka smiled back and Zuko suddenly felt like his smile was fake, weak in comparison to the real thing. The sunbeam coming from Sokka was enough to make Zuko melt, and he did, reclining back in the tub, turning his face to the ceiling. With the hand still curled around the side of the tub, he flicked his fingers towards Sokka, dislodging the few droplets that hadn’t yet dried. 

Sokka scoffed in indignation, but Zuko heard a laugh in the tone and suddenly there were hands in his hair again. He felt his eyes close and his lips part slightly. “I don’t want to be a burden for you,” he heard his voice say.

Sokka kept rubbing Zuko's head as he replied, “I don’t want to be one for you either.” One of his hands dipped to the water, which he cupped and carefully dropped onto Zuko’s hair, washing out stray bubbles. “I just want to know what all this soulmate crap is about.”

Zuko cracked a smile. “My mother used to say having a soulmate was the ultimate strength. Someone to fight for. Someone to fight for yourself for.” 

Sokka’s hands ran down Zuko’s skull and his little finger brushed down the back of Zuko’s ear. When it settled on Zuko’s earlobe, Sokka rubbed a small circle against the soft flesh with his finger. He had a laugh in his voice, but it vanished quickly as he asked, “And what’d your father say about it?”

Zuko’s smile remained, but it twisted a little. “That it was the ultimate weakness.”

Sokka laughed a little and stopped rubbing Zuko’s earlobe. “Confusing,” he murmured. He cupped a little more water to rinse Zuko’s hair with. “And what do you think?” Sokka’s right hand shielded Zuko’s forehead as he poured. The water ran down Zuko’s head and onto his barely surfaced shoulders. He felt his skin shiver.

“That I’ve never felt anything like it,” was all Zuko could come up with. 

Sokka sighed in agreement and ran his hands a few times through Zuko’s hair for good measure. He used his nails a little, scratching gentle lines down the length of Zuko’s scalp. 

Though his eyes were closed already, Zuko felt them roll up further into his skull. He inhaled the entire time and when Sokka stopped, Zuko could only hold his breath. 

When Sokka’s hands released and the pressure of his fingers was replaced by a cold sensation of their imprint, Zuko finally released his breath. A tiny flame was released as well, but when a startled Zuko spun around to face Sokka, he realized Sokka wasn’t looking. He was getting up. 

Over his shoulder, Sokka said, “Let me bring you something to wear.” He was already walking away. 

Zuko felt a pang in his chest but it was immediately replaced by a low ache in his stomach as Sokka called from the bedroom, “Food’s getting cold. We should eat.”

Then Sokka reappeared, arms laden with cloth. 

There was a stool in one corner of the room, which Sokka hooked with his foot and dragged to the side of the bathtub where Zuko was watching with uneven wide eyes. 

He placed his bundle onto the stool with an emphatic breath. 

Zuko stared at the pile, noticing that Sokka had brought him multiple towels as well as multiple tunics. “Thank you,” he mumbled. 

Sokka nodded firmly. He hesitated a moment, but a look crossed over his face and he took a step away from the tub. “I’ll get everything ready,” he said. His ears were flushed as he hastily left the bathroom. 

Zuko stood. The bathwater rose with him a little, stubbornly clinging to his limbs as if resisting his leave. His skin shone pink where it had soaked. 

He quickly lifted himself over the wall of the tub and onto the ice floor. He was surprised when his feet burned and clung to the ice. He ripped them off it, hopping gingerly from foot to foot with a quiet yelp before noticing the rug next to the tub. Cursing himself, he stepped onto it and immediately felt relief.

As he wrapped himself in one of the towels, he looked towards the door. For an instant, he thought he saw Sokka’s eyes, but they were gone before he could blink. 

He grabbed the other towel and dried his hair roughly with it before drying his body as quickly as possible. Even with the ferocity of his towelling, the fabric didn’t abrase his skin. He was trying to scrub the pink off, but he soon realized that wasn't going to be possible. His skin might be a little pink for a while. It was soft at least; whatever Sokka had put in the bath left a pleasant residue on Zuko's skin. 

When he was adequately dry, though still damp enough that his hair was clinging to his forehead and the back of his neck in thick clumps, Zuko grabbed the tunic on the top of the pile. When he was clothed, he started for the door, but realized he knew better and held himself back. 

Remembering the last night he had spent with Sokka, he begrudgingly slipped on the rest of the tunics Sokka had brought. At the bottom of the pile was a pair of pants, which Zuko slipped on as well. There was even a pair of socks, which had fallen off the pile sometime and landed next to the stool. These Zuko was the most grateful for. 

The socks protected his stinging feet as Zuko finally exited the bathroom, shaking a hand through his hair to separate the clumps. 

Sokka was already sitting at the table in front of a few plates, still steaming, and a few pitchers, not steaming. His face flushed as he noticed Zuko’s approach. “Feel better?” he asked and Zuko nodded, taking his seat. 

“I feel ready,” Zuko said. “Walk me through your plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmm don't know what to say with this one, except I hope this was a nice break from the struggle and I'm excited to hear your thoughts ❤️


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❤️🧡 luv u guys

“All we have to do is break out of the palace and we’re good.” Sokka pushed one of the plates towards Zuko and Zuko took a grateful bite of warm food. 

The flavor was unrecognizable, but Zuko couldn’t have cared. It tasted better than the blood from his cracked lip.

“I assume we’re not going to try to escape the same way as last time,” Zuko said when he’d finished his bite, with a jerk of his head towards the window.

“What’s wrong with the window?” Sokka asked, offended. “It worked last time, didn’t it?” 

“Exactly,” Zuko said. “They already know it works. We left the rope, remember?”

Sokka’s brow furrowed and he shook his head.

“So that was your plan, then,” Zuko said.

“No,” Sokka said. “That wasn’t my plan. I had a different plan. A better plan. Something no one will be expecting.”

“So what is it?”

“Gimme a minute,” Sokka mumbled.

Zuko took another bite. And another. He was on his third when Sokka startled him with a sudden excited cry, prompting a series of coughs. 

Sokka waited for Zuko to regain composure, before energetically saying, “I got it. Something so daring no one would ever suspect it.”

Zuko swallowed. “Well?”

“We’ll carve a way out of the prison.”

“How?”

“Zuko, my sister is a waterbender and you’re a firebender. Just do some magic,” he waved his arms around to pantomime bending, “and make a tunnel straight out.”

Zuko rubbed a knuckle into his temple. “That’s not how it works.”

Sokka looked convinced that Zuko was the wrong one. “Of course it is. Just woosh woosh, straight through.” He blinked at Zuko, waiting for him to acknowledge his own wrongness.

Zuko sighed. “What happens to the tunnel when we’re done?”

“That’s why we need Katara’s help, obviously. You’ll make the tunnel and when we’re on the other side, she can close it.”

Zuko considered his reply. “That sounds like a lot of work,” he chose. 

Sokka’s eyes narrowed and he leaned forward towards Zuko. “You don’t think you can do it? You don’t think she can?”

Zuko’s eyes flashed to Sokka’s. He gave a harsh stare as he said, “No, I can.” Sokka raised his eyebrows, daring Zuko to elaborate.

Zuko said, “How do we even know where to make it? Where will we exit?”

Sokka’s expression relaxed and he leaned back in his chair. “I’ll scope it out later, find the right spot.”

Zuko took another bite and waited for Sokka to start his own meal. He didn’t want to tell Sokka that his concerns hadn’t been answered. This whole thing felt improbable and truthfully, like Sokka had no idea what he was doing. 

After they had eaten for a moment, Zuko said, “Tell me the rest of the details.”

Sokka swallowed his bite and said, “First I need to finish gathering supplies. We’re going to need food, fuel, and camp supplies. But I’ll take care of that later. At some point, someone’s eventually going to come take you back to the prison. When I have everything, I’ll meet you there and we’ll leave immediately.”

A thousand questions immediately bubbled to Zuko’s mind. He chose, “Tonight?”

Sokka took another bite and nodded. “Not soon enough for you?”

Zuko shook his head and decided to ask another of his questions. “How are you going to get into the prison?”

Sokka waved his hand. “Katara’s guard. She’s not going to stop me.”

“What if there’s more men?”

“I’ll make something up.”

“On the spot?”

“I’m a great improviser!” Sokka protested.

Zuko released a laugh with the breath from his nose. “Okay, Prince Sokka, I’m sure they won’t see right through you.” Sokka’s indignant response was stifled by Zuko’s firm addition, “Especially when you’re carrying escape supplies.”

Sokka sighed again like Zuko was missing something. “I’ll just say the moon spirit came to me in a dream and told me to taunt you with camping supplies and that no one can bother me because this is spiritually important.” Seeing the look in Zuko’s eyes, he added, “They don’t mess with that stuff when it’s night. Not even to ask questions.”

Zuko breathed another laugh. “Convenient,” he said.

Sokka smiled. “Just one of the many perks of having me as a soulmate.”

Zuko’s cheeks flushed and he looked down at his plate, now mostly empty. He pushed one of the last bites down his throat. When he’d finished, he said, “So this is really happening, then. You’re sure about this.”

“Of course I am,” Sokka sighed and Zuko heard Sokka’s utensils drop to the plate with a clatter. He looked up to see Sokka say, “I didn’t think I’d ever get the chance to know you and now you’re here, and yeah it’s not under the right circumstances and no one else wants us to be together, but I can’t lose my only chance to get to know you. I’m never going to get that if we don’t do something now.”

“Glad to know it has nothing to do with me,” Zuko said. He meant it as a joke, but his tone was humorless.

“And obviously, I don’t want you to be tortured by the chief of the Northern Water Tribe. It has to do with you too.” Sokka rolled his eyes. 

Zuko smiled a little. 

“You’re sure about this too, right?” Sokka asked. 

Zuko didn’t reply. There was still the last of the food to be finished and finishing it was better than trying to figure out how he felt about this whole thing. He couldn’t answer Sokka yet. He wasn’t confident in the plan, but he also wasn’t confident that it was right to be leaving the North Pole. 

“Fine,” Sokka said in a coo. “Don’t answer, just be ready when I come.”

Zuko nodded slightly as he swallowed the last bite of his meal. “Whatever you say,” he said, “I’ll do.”

Sokka hummed an affirmation, but returned to his own meal without speaking.

Zuko watched for a moment as Sokka ate, admiring the curve of his neck as he leaned his mouth towards the plate. Zuko started to feel a blush forming and looked away from Sokka to pour himself a glass of whatever was in the closest pitcher.

It was just water, but Zuko was grateful. The liquid was the same temperature as the room, which he thought fortunate. He wasn’t eager to be cold again. The water settled nicely and soon the glass was empty. 

Sokka, mouth full, mumbled something and pushed his untouched glass towards Zuko, which Zuko acknowledged by pouring some water into it. Sokka nodded his thanks and drained the glass in one sip. 

Zuko refilled it for Sokka, smiling, and Sokka finished his bite to say, “Wait, I want the other one.” Zuko’s smile faded into an annoyed grimace and he grabbed his own empty glass to fill for Sokka. 

The liquid in the untouched pitcher turned out to be wine, or so Zuko assumed by its dark red hue. He filled the glass all the way full and handed it to Sokka, who now had both available glasses. 

Sokka took the drink and had a generous sip. He looked very pleased with himself as he pulled the glass from his lips and offered it back across the table to Zuko. “Want some?” he asked.

Annoyance forgotten, Zuko’s eyes studied Sokka’s lips. Zuko hated that he hadn’t paid more attention to Sokka’s mouth while he drank. His lips had touched it and now Zuko couldn’t even remember where on the glass they had been as he took it from Sokka’s outstretched hand. Stupid.

Zuko drank some wine and despite trying, couldn’t distract his gaze from Sokka’s bottom lip. It didn’t matter, but Zuko couldn’t forget how close this was to tasting Sokka’s mouth. 

He pretended Sokka tasted like wine and took another hungry sip before passing the glass back to Sokka.

Their fingers met a moment as they passed the glass and Zuko shivered away, sulking into his seat and staring suddenly at the empty plate beneath him.

He heard Sokka chug another drink of wine, then the glass was set onto the table and Sokka said, “What are you thinking about?”

Zuko’s face flushed as his gut turned. He panicked for a moment. What was he thinking about? His eyes darted around the plate, begging himself to think about anything normal he could tell Sokka. Anything at all. But his mind was moving too fast. It refused to stick on something. When the expectant silence had dragged on for too long, he said a quiet, “I don’t know,” and then to deflect the line of questioning, asked, “What are you thinking about?”

“Hm,” Sokka said thoughtfully. “A lot of things I guess. Mostly that I have the best taste in wine ever.”

Zuko didn’t say anything.

“Also, I’m thinking about what to tell Arnook when I write him a letter.”

Zuko still didn’t speak.

Sokka tried, “And also I’m thinking about how to convince the guards to give me extra time with you tonight.”

“What’s your plan?” Zuko asked, perking up. Sokka was smiling when Zuko’s eyes reached him.

“It’s always about the plan with you,” Sokka said and Zuko could see each of his teeth. “I’m not very far along. My only ideas right now are to say I’m sick and nothing would make me happier than to make you sick also, or to say the fire isn’t good enough and I need you to stay to keep it hot.”

Zuko shook his head and looked back down at his plate to hide his smile. “What happened to the moon spirit excuse? And why would you say you’re sick? Why wouldn’t they take me away from you if you’re sick?” He didn’t mention Sokka’s second idea. He hoped his disinterest would inform Sokka that it was a terrible excuse and no one would believe it.

Sokka waved a hand. “Can’t use moon spirit excuses twice in one night, they start to wonder if I can actually talk with Tui. And if I’m sick, they’re not gonna want to hang around. Probably will just leave and let me do what I want for a little longer. At least until there’s a change of shift.”

Zuko breathed a laugh through his nose and closed his eyes tightly. “Why are you being so nice to me?” 

Sokka offered Zuko the wine before he replied, offended, “I’m a nice guy.”

Zuko creaked his eyes open to accept the wine. “I know,” he said and took a drink. The wine wasn’t heated, but it warmed his throat and chest as it travelled. “But I’m…” He trailed off. “I’m me. Fire Prince and all.”

Sokka reached a hand out for the glass. Zuko ignored him and took another sip so Sokka said, “Yeah and a jerkbender too. What’s your point?”

Zuko reluctantly passed the glass, now half-empty, back to Sokka and said with a wince, “I either have to betray you or betray my father.”

“Or you could figure that out later and enjoy the wine I picked especially for you,” Sokka said through a full mouth before swallowing and handing the glass back to Zuko, who quickly gulped down about a quarter of the remaining liquid.

“Why aren’t you more worried about this?” Zuko asked and gave Sokka the wine. 

Sokka leaned back in his chair, cup in hand, and shrugged. “I could be wrong, I guess. But I think you’d rather betray your father than me. If it comes down to it at all.” He emphasized the “if”.

Zuko bit his tongue. His instinct was to tell Sokka he was wrong. That Zuko’s loyalty was obviously to the Firelord and that would never change. The words rose to his throat, but they tasted bitter and he knew he would regret saying them aloud. 

The sentiment didn’t even really feel true anymore. Of course he was loyal to his father, but here in the North Pole, with Sokka, his father was the least of his concerns. The last person to cross his mind. 

An alarming thought struck Zuko that if Ozai were here right now, Zuko wouldn’t hesitate to side with Sokka. 

He shook his head. Maybe this was just the wine. Maybe he’d feel differently later.

Sokka breathed, “Hm,” but drank instead of speaking. 

“You shouldn’t ask for more time with me tonight,” Zuko said.

“Why not?” Sokka asked and drained the glass. 

“Don’t you need time to collect everything?” 

Sokka sighed. “I don’t like the thought of you waiting for me all alone in the cold,” he admitted. “It feels wrong to send you back while I’m still here getting ready.” He handed the glass back to Zuko and asked, “More?”

Zuko obliged and refilled the cup. He took the first sip before handing it to Sokka. He said, “I’ll be fine. You don’t have to worry about me, I can handle myself.”

Sokka gave him a look like he didn’t believe him. “Yeah, I know you’ll be fine. You could just be finer.”

Zuko was going to say something clever in response, but a sudden return of the ache in his shoulders stopped him. The pain hadn’t been a problem since his bath, but now it was creeping back through his shoulders and into his neck and upper spine. His right shoulder was especially sore. He groaned and rolled it experimentally, but grimaced at the resulting bright bloom of pain.

Sokka looked concerned. “Told you you weren’t fine,” he mumbled and rose from his seat, setting the wine in the center of the table. “Want me to help with that?”

Zuko shoved his shoulders down, squaring them sullenly. “I’ll be fine,” he repeated to dismiss Sokka’s concerns. 

It couldn’t have mattered less, though. Sokka didn’t believe him and was in fact, already walking towards Zuko, concern still written clearly on his face. “Or you could let me help,” he said, “and be more fine.”

Zuko hoped his eyes were communicating that he didn’t want Sokka’s help, but he knew that Sokka was just going to do whatever he wanted. 

Sokka slid around to Zuko’s side and reluctantly, Zuko offered the aching shoulder by pushing it out a little. 

Sokka’s hands were warm, so warm Zuko could feel it through all three of the tunics he was wearing. 

Zuko felt his breath catch as Sokka’s grip firmed around his shoulder and he hated himself for it.

Sokka’s thumb searched Zuko’s shoulder, feeling for the spot of tension. Zuko winced, feeling the tendons in his shoulder pop and strain responsively. 

“Relax,” Sokka instructed and Zuko almost snapped something back. He was relaxed, couldn’t Sokka tell? “You’re tensing. Relax.”

Zuko swallowed his words and tried to relax more.

Sokka seemed satisfied and dug his thumb into the tensest part of Zuko’s shoulder. A soft gasp knocked all the breath from Zuko’s lungs and he nearly keeled over as Sokka continued to manipulate the muscle.

Sokka seemed to sense that he was doing something painful. His hand moved, closer to Zuko’s neck. He thumbed over the skin, feeling for a better spot. He settled on the tendon connecting Zuko’s neck to his shoulder and pressed into it gently at first, then with more pressure when Zuko didn’t wince with pain.

The pressure forced Sokka’s thumb to shift slightly, sliding a little farther up on Zuko’s neck and suddenly Zuko felt the entire tendon relax. He couldn’t contain the soft moan that pushed through his parted lips and he gasped slightly as Sokka increased the pressure. “Good spot?” Sokka murmured and Zuko let another soft moan answer the question. 

He could feel the tension bleeding out of his neck into Sokka’s hand. He felt utterly helpless, completely under the power of Sokka’s efforts, unable to control any of the sounds his breath was making. His head felt weak and it lolled to the side, giving Sokka more access. 

Sokka rubbed the spot for a moment longer, but it was already relaxing and there wasn’t much more for him to do. When he’d given up, he let his hand slide back down Zuko’s neck to cup it gently around Zuko’s shoulder. He gave a squeeze to check if Zuko was still hurting. “I told you I could help,” he said, not seeing any sign of pain in Zuko’s reaction. 

Zuko nodded mutely. His cheeks felt hot. “Thanks,” was the best he could do.

Sokka smiled and Zuko raised his eyes to see that Sokka was blushing. 

Zuko’s stomach flipped. Rapidly, he tried to construct a list in his mind of all the ways he wanted to touch Sokka right now, just so he wouldn’t accidentally do it without thinking. 

Sokka left his side, fingers reluctantly dragging over Zuko’s shoulder, hesitant to depart. But he took his seat again and returned to his meal. His eyes looked sad, which confused Zuko greatly. Had he done something wrong? Crossed some imaginary line?

He wanted Sokka to say something. Anything. But the silence rang in Zuko’s ears and felt permanent.

Mind racing, Zuko reached out a hand across the table and retrieved the glass. He needed more.

He finished the nearly full glass of wine and felt his heartbeat push against his eardrums as the liquor swirled around his head. “What are you thinking?” he asked lamely. 

Sokka smiled, more of a twitch of his lips than a grin, and replied, “I wish we were already gone. Earth Kingdom or wherever.” But Zuko felt like this wasn’t the full answer. 

The full answer would have to wait apparently. 

Zuko’s foggy brain registered the knock on Sokka’s door and he raised his uneven eyes to Sokka’s startled ones. 

Sokka had paused, a bite of food nearly to his mouth, when they heard the second knock, followed by a series of short, irritable knocks. The food clattered to his plate. 

“I heard you the first time,” Sokka yelled at the door and the knocking ceased. 

He gave Zuko a look of pity, which Zuko hated, then hastily looked at the door to yell, “Come back later.”

The knocking resumed and Sokka sighed. “Fine,” he said, but it was more to Zuko than to the knocker. He offered a look of apology to Zuko, which Zuko actively scowled at, before rising to his feet and answering the door.

Waiting for him in the hallway was Master Pakku and a sleepy looking Katara. Katara was closest to the door, she must have been the one knocking, but she didn’t try to enter. Pakku didn’t either.

“It’s time,” Pakku said to Sokka. 

“Don’t I get to decide when it’s time?” Sokka asked and Pakku scowled. 

“Capture your own prisoner, Prince Sokka, and you can decide what to do with him. This however,” he pointed directly at Zuko, “is the chief’s prisoner.”

Sokka was quiet for a while as he studied Pakku’s face. “Fine,” he said at last, his expression changing from one of upset to one of resignation, and turned away from the door with a wave of his hand, encouraging Pakku and Katara to enter, “It’s not like I was getting anywhere.”

Katara looked like she was biting back a laugh as she entered the room. She and Sokka shared a conversation with their eyes before she nodded and moved into the room, allowing Pakku to follow her.

Pakku’s eyes found Zuko immediately and Zuko startled to his feet, uncomfortable under the intense stare. “You’ve unbound him?” he accused.

Sokka scoffed. “Hardly a meal if he can’t eat.”

Pakku sighed. “The restraints, what have you done with them?”

Sokka retrieved the chains. As he passed the table, Zuko saw his fingers dart to where the key was still sitting and push it under a plate to hide it. It was subtle and Zuko couldn’t help the smile that pushed his cheeks, though he tried. 

Pakku saw the restrained smile on Zuko’s face and scowled harder. He strode toward the boy and grabbed him roughly by the shoulders to spin him around. 

Zuko bit the inside of his cheek and put his wrists together behind his back. Pakku placed the chains, tightening them until he heard Zuko wince, then latched them with a lock and spun Zuko back around to face him. 

Zuko’s jaw clenched with discomfort. 

“Forget you’re a prisoner?” Pakku taunted. 

Zuko wisely chose not to respond, instead opting to watch as Sokka and Katara exchanged more expressive looks. 

Pakku shook him roughly and Zuko’s eyes snapped forward. “No,” Zuko said, “I know why I’m here.”

Pakku’s eyes narrowed. “You do, do you?”

Katara and Sokka finished their nonverbal conversation suddenly and she inserted, “Let’s go. I don’t think any of us want to spend the whole night chatting with the prisoner.”

“You’re right,” Pakku said. “‘Chatting’ is not how I intend to spend my evening. Sokka, are you going to try to stop us from removing the prisoner?”

Sokka stared at Pakku but didn’t reply. 

In response, Pakku grunted and dragged Zuko towards the door, fingers digging like claws into Zuko’s right shoulder. Sokka’s expression was cloudy as Zuko disappeared from his view. 

While he was dragged back to the cell, Zuko replayed the evening in his head. 

The memory of warmth was still fresh as Pakku threw him into the cell, against the ice wall, and cold began to bloom and ache in Zuko’s limbs. How could he be cold in three layers of clothing, he wondered desperately against the shiver of his upper arms.

Pakku slammed the door shut so loudly Zuko jumped. Pakku laughed and stood outside of the cage, glaring menacingly at Zuko. “I’m afraid you look a little comfortable, Prince Zuko,” Pakku said, prompting a tense wince from Zuko, who most certainly was not comfortable. 

With Zuko’s eyes winced shut, Pakku must have seen a cruel opportunity, because as soon as they were shut, Pakku turned a section of the wall into slush and flung it towards the boy.

Zuko’s eyelids winced tighter as the bits of ice battered his body, stinging his cheeks and biting his lips. 

He heard Katara moving and registered as she said, “Come on, he looks miserable. Let’s go.”

Pakku brushed her off and collected the bits of slush, drying Zuko. “Miserable?” Suddenly he sent the slush back to Zuko, so fast it whistled through the air before cutting the boy’s skin. “Miserable?” he asked again and repeated the action. “Look at me,” he commanded and Zuko raised his head weakly. His eyes shone with fear as Pakku collected the slush for a third time.

It formed a ball in front of Pakku’s waving arms and with a flick of Pakku’s wrist, knocked back into Zuko with enough force to send him into the ice wall again. He cried out as his spine cracked against the ice. Before his head could slump forward, Pakku slapped him across the face with another sheet of slush. Zuko’s head was knocked sideways and Pakku yelled again, “Look at me.”

Zuko’s neck, stiff and noncompliant, creaked as Zuko forced his head forward. 

The light in the room was too bright for Zuko’s bruised mind. The room looked like a kaleidoscope, spinning bright flashes of color that pricked Zuko’s eyes with pain. He guessed where Pakku was. 

Pakku laughed. “Now that looks miserable to me, Katara.”

Katara’s voice shook as she said, “Stop. He’s had enough.”

Pakku turned his steely gaze from Zuko to Katara. “He’s had a taste. Certainly not enough to satiate.”

“Why are you doing this?” she asked in a growl.

Pakku’s eyes widened. “Why? Because the chief and your brother are convinced niceness will work. Because they think the scum will respond to civility. But I know the only way to get results is to beat them out.”

Katara said weakly, “I’ll tell the chief.” 

“And say what?” Pakku jeered. “Take your leave, girl, if you know what’s good for you. I’ll guard the prisoner myself tonight.”

“You know this isn’t right.”

“Go,” Pakku hissed. “Before I start to suspect you of empathizing with the prisoner.”

Katara left without argument, all but sprinting out of the room. Zuko dizzily watched her leave, hoping she’d warn Sokka not to come tonight after all.

His thoughts scrambled as Pakku sent another wave. And another. And another. And another. Until Zuko was coughing up water mixed with the blood running from his nose. 

Pakku sent the last wave and Zuko collapsed face first onto the floor, panting wildly as his chest contracted from cold and shock. 

A powerful shiver took hold of Zuko’s limbs as Pakku turned the slush into liquid. The icy water sunk deep through Zuko’s hair and all the layers of his clothes. 

Pakku asked quietly, “Miserable?”

Zuko’s body was shaking too badly for him to force a reply from his swollen throat so Pakku hummed and sat on the bench Katara made opposite the cage. 

“Try to move,” Pakku said. “Try it.”

Zuko didn’t try it. Not even to uncrumple himself from the awkward position he had fallen into. He was frozen, with fear and pain, except for the involuntary spasms that racked his body as the cold burned through it. 

He didn’t know how long he was in this position for. Only that as time dragged on, a deep ache developed in every single joint of his body. The cold wasn’t receding from his body, either. He felt like he was actually growing colder, his shivering becoming more violent. 

As long as Zuko didn’t move though, Pakku seemed content to watch him in silence. Zuko could only assume that Pakku was still awake and alert, he refused to lift his head to check.

After a while, Zuko began to feel his limbs stiffen. He wondered if he’d ever be able to unfold himself or if his body would just freeze like this.

Suddenly, Pakku hissed, “Do you hear that?”

Zuko could only form a groan through cracked lips. He heard Pakku stand and move to the door, which was slid open so Pakku could step into the hall to investigate whatever he’d heard. 

He was in the hall for a very long time, Zuko thought. He felt minutes drag by before he heard the slide of the door again. His breath caught with the sound and he waited.

Zuko was surprised by the sound of something heavy thudding to the floor by the cage, but not surprised enough to raise his head to risk a look.

But when he heard Katara’s voice, “Hurry up,” he peeked. It hurt his neck to look upwards.

The relief he felt upon looking was worth the pain, though. He saw two bags on the ground, packed and ready for departure, and Katara by the doorway, facing into the hall. 

Quickly, Zuko scrambled to a sitting position, ignoring the blanket of pain settling across his joints. 

Then Sokka apppeared, slightly out of breath and holding more in his hands than he should have been. He rushed towards the packs on the ground to hurriedly pack the extra supplies he was carrying. 

His hair had been pulled back into the wolf tail. Zuko thought something looked different, better even. Guiltily, he groomed Sokka’s hair with his eyes.

The sides of Sokka’s looked like they’d been shaved shorter than they had the other night, Zuko realized. “Did you cut your hair?” he asked with a laugh that sounded like a grimace, even to his own ears. 

Sokka’s hand flew to the sides of his head self consciously. “Does it look bad?” he asked, turning away from the packs to Zuko. His eyes widened as they reached.

Zuko felt stupid. “No,” he said too quickly. “It looks good.”

“You look like shit,” Sokka gasped, tone suddenly stormy, and Zuko winced as his muscles popped as if to affirm Sokka’s assessment. 

“Makes sense,” Zuko said and realized that Sokka was shaking. 

Sokka’s fists balled and his expression contorted. He started towards the door but Katara stopped him. “Where are you going?”

“To kill Pakku,” he said with narrow eyes.

Katara laughed. “Believe me, when you actually kill Pakku, I’ll be there to help.” She looked at Zuko. “We have other things to worry about right now.”

Sokka sighed, sadness coloring his tone, and turned back around. His expression fell as he looked back at Zuko.

“I’m sorry,” he said and rushed to the cage. He undid the lock with trembling fingers. His steps seemed unsteady as he entered. 

“Can you stand?” Sokka asked, voice full of pain, when he reached Zuko. 

Zuko nodded, but even that hurt. 

Sokka’s fingers brushed Zuko’s face under his nose, wiping the blood from his lips and chin. Zuko couldn’t read his expression. 

Sokka slid an arm around Zuko’s torso, under the crook of his arms and lifted him to his feet. Zuko was without strength and he felt ashamed, knowing that Sokka could tell he was supporting all of Zuko’s weight at the moment.

Sokka carted Zuko out of the cell and deposited him on the bench with a groan from the Fire Prince.

Sokka fished the key to the restraints from his pocket. Without adjusting Zuko’s position, Sokka reached around him and undid the bindings. 

As Zuko relaxed, he rasped in a voice of gravel, “Should we wait to leave?”

Sokka’s expression bloomed with concern. “Should we? Are you too hurt?”

Zuko grimaced but shook his head to dispel Sokka’s concern. 

Katara moved towards him then, placing a hand softly enough on his shoulder that he didn’t have to flinch away from the pain. “I can help.” 

Zuko grunted his consent because Sokka looked like he needed him to. 

Katara drew the water away from Zuko’s body first and immediately he felt lighter. Not warmer or more comfortable, just like a massive weight had been lifted from his chest. He breathed a sigh as Katara collected the water around her hand still on Zuko’s shoulder, forming a glove for it. 

Zuko’s eyes widened as the glove began to glow blue and he felt the grip of panic form at its unfamiliarity, but Sokka looked encouraged.

Zuko let out a shaky breath and suddenly it felt like the pain was being drawn from his body. Even his nose shifted back into place, though it wasn’t painful. Just a deep pressure and the sound of popping bone. 

Sokka looked uncomfortable at the sound, but Zuko flashed him a weak smile and Katara withdrew her hand, letting the water splash into the floor.

“Better,” Zuko groaned, his voice raw and quiet. “Thank you.”

“Can you walk?” Sokka asked like he wanted a genuine answer. 

Zuko nodded. “I’ll be fine,” he said and tried to calm his still-ragged breathing.

“Do you want to leave, then? Are you ready?”

Zuko nodded slowly while he swallowed hard to wet his throat. “How much time do we have? How’d you get rid of Pakku?

Sokka ran a hand through his hair, seemingly forgetting that it was tied back. He succeeded in loosing several clumps of hair from the ponytail with only a single pass of his hand. “Yue helped. He thinks he’s looking for me. That I’m having some violent spirit vision or something. I think Yue told him I was on the other side of the city, scaring all the residents. Should take him a while to figure it out. He passed Katara on the way, said for her to guard the stairs.” It seemed like he couldn’t look at Zuko.

Zuko processed this, then said, “Thank you. For coming still.”

When Sokka finally met Zuko’s uneven gaze, he looked so sad; Zuko felt his throat clench at the sight of so much hurt in Sokka’s expression. “I need to get you away from them. Now. Permanently.”

Zuko nodded and rose to his feet. Sokka immediately thrust an arm forward for support, but Zuko didn’t accept it. He didn’t need the help. Although his legs wobbled a bit, he realized he hadn’t actually been lying when he told Sokka he’d be able to walk. 

“So about this tunnel?” Zuko asked and Sokka nodded solemnly. 

It was time for Zuko to summon enough energy to make their escape. 

Sokka moved to the ice wall that had the cell and rapped a spot with his knuckles. “Here,” he said. 

Zuko eyed the spot warily and called upon his flame, willing it to grow from the weakness it had been forced to. He closed his eyes and tried to think of fire. 

But in the darkness behind his eyelids, he could only conjure the image of shining gold eyes. 

In his mind, Zuko imagined Sokka’s arms wrap around his waist and suddenly the fire in his stomach churned to life. 

His fingertips burned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyone ready to see how far they actually make it? we got an injured zuko and an enthusiastic sokka. any bets on if they actually will make it to a boat to escape?


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't know why I always decide to write instead of sleeping, but here's what my sleepy brain wanted to do right now

Behind his eyelids, Zuko saw sparks of red and blue bursting around each other until they collided into a wave of gold and he could feel the pressure of a small, precise flame gathering in the center of his downturned palm. 

He opened his eyes, avoiding Sokka, narrowly, and trained them on the spot Sokka had indicated.

Sokka noticed and stepped aside, swapping a nervous glance with Katara, which Zuko saw from the corner of his good eye. 

He kept his palm downturned, kept the flame small, but increased the energy he was channeling into it, bottling the pressure of the heat into the precise flame. 

Zuko took a deep, centering breath and shifted his feet to a solid stance. He squared his shoulders and with a sharp, violent exhale, raised the flame steeply with a punch of his arm at the wall. His left elbow bent in a practiced movement, left arm tucked defensively by his ribs, fist balled. His feet shifted deliberately on the ice forward to another solid stance. 

The flame in his palm roared forward in a long thin stream. 

Zuko’s eyes widened as the flame left his fist, barreling at an angle towards the ice wall. The air wavered around it and he thought he could see the massive halo of its heat.

It met the wall with a hiss as the affected ice turned instantly to steam, leaving a deep cylindrical hole. 

Each person in the room shuffled forward hastily, independent of each other, anxious to see the result. 

As the cloud of steam drifted and dissipated into the frigid air, Zuko felt the chill of the Arctic night and although he could only see darkness where the fire bullet had reached an end, he knew as all three peered up through the hole, they were looking at the sky.

Sokka clapped him on the back. Three times. The third time, his hand lingered as he whispered, “Told you.”

Zuko, who was standing closest to the tunnel, Katara and Sokka flanking him on either side, shot an irritated look over his shoulder at Sokka.

The sag of exhaustion was pulling at the skin under Zuko’s eyes and he felt drained by the exertion of power, bruised even. It felt like it had been borrowed power; power he’d be loaning back later. 

Sokka’s eyes softened and the air whistled through his slightly parted lips. 

“Look,” Katara cut in, annoyed.

Zuko turned his head back around and noticed her point. Where the ice wall had been forced to steam, there was now air. But where the wall had melted was now ice, including what should have been the floor of their tunnel.

Zuko shook his head and sighed in defeat. There was no chance they could walk up a frictionless slide like that. 

“Well?” Sokka asked. “What now? Katara, can you make stairs?”

She sighed as well. “I don’t know,” she gasped and Zuko thought it sounded like it hurt her to admit it. “I’m not very good at stairs, yet.” She spat the “yet” with a frustrated flash of her eyes to Sokka.

“What good is it you being a waterbender if you can’t even help me, Katara? Either you’re better than me or not, but if you'd ask me to carve those stairs myself, by hand remember, you know I could do it." He was taunting her. "Actually, why don't you just let me do it. I bet I'll do a better job than you even if you tried.”

Katara scowled and assumed a sloppy position, to Zuko’s judgement. She raised her arms with limp wrists and tugged her fingertips. The ice of the tunnel’s floor turned to water and sagged upwards for a moment before shuddering downwards again, back into ice. 

Katara heaved a frustrated sigh, but before she could try again or give up, Zuko commanded with a quiet, hoarse voice, “Strengthen your core. Your stance is weak. Your muscles aren’t tense enough.” 

Realizing himself, Zuko blushed a deep red and turned his eyes downward to avoid the certain glare from Katara.

She didn’t yell at him, though. Maybe it was because she knew he was right. He heard her feet shift and looked up to see her improved form. Her legs were straight, shoulders raised, wrists locked, as she convinced the water upwards again. Her eyes narrowed and her forehead tightened, but through the tension of her fingers, she managed to coax the water into a shape resembling stairs, when she tightened her fist and the water suddenly solidified to ice.

She was panting slightly as she dropped her arm, but beamed as she turned to face Zuko and Sokka. “I did it!” she said excitedly. 

Zuko offered her an embarrassed smile while Sokka beamed to match, alternating the look from Katara to Zuko to Katara back to Zuko. The smile didn’t falter as he said, “Let’s go”.

He broke their contact to snatch a pack from the floor, which Zuko caught after it was tossed. Its weight knocked a sigh from his chest. 

Sokka slung the other over his right shoulder. Under his bag had been his boomerang and its sheath, which he donned, opting to sling the sheath over his other shoulder, as well as two pairs of fur lined boots, thicker and denser than the boots he had offered the other day.

Zuko caught the boots as Sokka threw them as well. Sokka stayed where he was to tie the shoes, after tucking his current pair into his bag, and Zuko did the same. When they were finished, Zuko was still closest to the tunnel, so he took the first step. 

The ice was slick and frictionless, as he had expected, but he found that if he stretched out his arms and let his palms press against the tunnel’s sides, the stairs didn't seem deadly. 

He didn’t like the dark, narrow confinement of the tunnel and so he rushed upwards, heartbeat clawing into his throat.

When he surfaced, the sting of the air brought a deep flush to his skin but he breathed in deeply, relishing the prickling burn of it against his lungs. He was grateful even for the snowflakes catching in his lashes, making his vision blurry and his eyelids twitch.

Sokka was close behind him. Breathlessly, he called down to Katara, “Don’t forget the letter,” and with a static creak, a section of the snow caved in, filling the hole before solidifying to an opaque ice, indistinguishable from the rest. 

Zuko blinked in amazement, shifting a few scuffling steps backwards to avoid the slide of snow around his feet. How powerful this girl must be, he thought, to control the element so deliberately without any form or training. She reminded him a little of Azula, though they weren’t anything alike. He wondered if he’d found Azula’s match and thought briefly about who would win in a fight. Azula, he thought, obviously had the upper hand with her years of personalized training and grooming from their father, but there was something about the fierceness of Katara’s determination that Zuko felt could drive her just enough to beat his sister. 

Sokka pulled him out of his thoughts by grabbing him around the torso and dragging him away from the site. Zuko was grateful to have his thoughts disrupted.

Sokka only took him as far as the nearest gap between houses, which he pulled Zuko into, before dropping his bag on the ground and digging through it on his knees. 

Zuko watched in astonishment as Sokka pulled out yet another tunic and passed it wordlessly to Zuko. Zuko gaped, “I’m not dressed enough already?” He felt a crack bust his bottom lip, though the cold air immediately numbed it.

Sokka turned his head up from where it was craned to examine the contents of the bag he was still pawing through. He eyed Zuko up and down quickly with stern criticism. “No,” he concluded. “No, you are not. Put that on,” he pointed a finger to the parka in Zuko’s hand, “and cinch the hood.”

The prospect of the cold night ahead chilled Zuko’s blood and suddenly he ached for the parka Sokka so graciously had gifted him. He slipped it on tenderly, as quickly as his chapped hands could allow. 

As he finished cinching the hood with shaking fingers, Sokka thrust a pair of animal skin mittens under Zuko’s chin. Zuko looked up to smile at Sokka as he put the gloves on. The fur rubbed awfully against his skin, but even the burn of it was a welcome heat on the stiff joints of his fingers.

Sokka was nodding, gloves already on his own hands and hood cinched so tight all Zuko could see of his face was his nose, lips and part of his eyes, which were mostly obscured by the fur trim of his hood. 

Zuko’s smile was startled as Sokka suddenly reached out his hands and tugged Zuko’s hood tighter, to match his own. Zuko stifled an indignant yelp and let Sokka decide what was the appropriate way to tighten a hood. Even through Sokka’s mittens and the unfathomable amount of fabric between his fingers and Zuko’s flesh, Zuko could still feel the warmth radiating from Sokka’s hands. He missed it when Sokka pulled his hands away and said in a low voice, “We have to move fast.”

Zuko nodded, knowing his swollen lips didn’t want to form words, and followed as Sokka set out in an intentional direction. 

Zuko kept his head down as they trudged through the freshly fallen snow, looking only at the back of Sokka’s heels as they determined the path before him. He tried to match his footsteps to Sokka’s, thinking it might be smart to only leave one set of tracks. 

As they continued, Zuko realized it didn’t matter what footprints they left, though. The snow wasn’t yet a storm, but it was coming down in a sheet of thick, dense clumps now, sticking stubbornly to everything. 

When he tried to lift his gaze to see what was ahead of them, he couldn’t make out anything except the static whiteness of the falling snow and Sokka’s barely distinguishable silhouette. In the space after an exhale, Zuko held his breath and could make out the sound of Sokka mumbling a count. 

At a point, they heard yelling and noises like the ones frenzied guards make, but the sound was distant, though perhaps just muffled by the snow, and they weren’t spotted. 

Still, Zuko’s chest was clenched tighter than before as Sokka continued his confident march into the blind of the snow.

The longer they trudged, the sorer Zuko became. First it was the balls of his feet, chilled so thoroughly by the snow that they felt like daggers shooting upwards through his ankles every time he took his step. Then his ankles stiffened and became useless. Next was his hips, then his ribs and shoulders, then the bones of his neck that held up his head. He continued to sludge forward, willpower alone dragging numb limbs to carry him forward. 

Still, when Sokka stopped and said, “We should be here,” Zuko was upset. 

“We’ve barely gotten anywhere,” Zuko hissed painfully, words slurred by the absolute numbness of his cheeks. 

“We’re outside the city,” Sokka said absentmindedly. He was turning around, peering into the snow. “It should be right here,” he mumbled, cupping a gloved hand over his forehead to shield his eyes from the snowfall, as if that would help. 

“How far outside the city?” Zuko demanded hoarsely, judging that no matter what Sokka replied, they were likely just outside the city. They were too obvious here. They needed to walk farther, Zuko’s mind screamed at his body, which was already seizing with stiffness at the sudden halt to its walking. 

“Not very far. Far enough through the storm” Sokka said. Zuko was surprised how easily the admission was offered. “Do you see anything?” Sokka asked and Zuko obediently strained his eyes. 

“No,” he said sullenly, before his sight caught on a dark spot, slightly visible through painful strain against the stark blankness of the horizon, and Zuko’s heart lurched. “Wait, maybe. Over there. I think. I think I see something.”

Sokka followed the point of Zuko’s mitten and jumped. “You’re incredible,” he said.

Zuko’s muscles prickled uncomfortably with the praise, pushing him forward and prompting him into a shuffle. He stumbled a few painful steps towards the shape he thought he saw in the distance, wincing as his vision blackened with the jolt of each footfall.

It turned out to not be very far, but Zuko had to nearly be touching the structure before its shape was visible. Whether it had been obscured by the snowfall or by the static fog encroaching rapidly across Zuko's vision seemed irrelevant to Zuko. He blinked and felt like he was outside of his body. 

The spot was just a hut and Sokka was kicking in its door. 

Was he moving?

They were inside.

The cloud of Zuko’s breath.

Lifted. 

Sokka was moving and Zuko could do nothing to stop himself from collapsing onto the ground as darkness overtook his vision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so um I don't know why the story decided zuko should black out here but I felt like it was a good break in the chapters. this took me an hour cause the inspiration is flowing like that, so expect an update soon. I'm super excited for these next couple of chapters


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright alright this is gonna be the last short chapter for a while. I promise the next one will be long!

Zuko regained consciousness, dragging his weary eyelids apart. The space confining him seemed to breathe. Its image was aggressively pressing in towards him all at once, then shrinking away into blurry timid shapes his eyes couldn’t quite make out.

His head spun and he pressed a clammy hand to his temple. 

Why were his gloves off?

Where was he?

He rubbed his fist into his good eye, angrily dispelling the film over it. When he blinked again and dropped his fist, the room was pulsating still, but was a little clearer. 

He blinked more and he could at least make out the blurry features of the room he was in. The tempo of the room’s breath gave Zuko a sharp headache. He felt nauseous even. His stomach turned at the thought of movement.

Zuko kept his neck straight, only moving his eyes as he looked about the room.

There was a small bed spanning the entire length of one of the walls Zuko could see with his right eye. Its side was pressed against the wall it was parallel to. 

The wall opposite the bed was just the door and what Zuko’s left eye could barely make out as two sets of boots on the ground, leaning against the wall.

Wordlessly he gaped at his bare feet to confirm their bareness. Even his socks had been removed, but his toes were too numb to feel the cut of the air. 

What was happening? His bleary mind struggled with memory. 

The wall across from him was as blank as the others. The only item it held was a desk, a chair, and a dirty mirror above the desk. As he glared into the mirror, he began to make out the shape of a fireplace and the figure of a person huddling in front of it.

He turned his neck as far to the right as it would move. 

The corner of his eye could catch Sokka next to him, humming angrily as he worked on the fire that was not yet lit. The parkas that had been their top layer of clothing were laid out on the ground before the fireplace. 

Zuko turned his neck forward again, the simple turn exerting too much pressure on his muscles to be maintainable. His eyes caught on the mirror again and he realized in the lower left corner, he could make out his own image. 

He looked like shit, Zuko realized as he blinked again to clear the image. 

When he opened his eyes, the face staring back at him in the mirror was barely recognizable as his own. 

His skin was raw and swollen, red where the frost was receding and blue where the skin hadn’t thawed yet. It sagged around his eyes in dark, painful bruises, pressing his good eye shut to match his bad eye.

His lips were numb and puffy, a garish smear of red and purple across his patchy cheeks. 

Zuko groaned and let his eyelids shut heavily. He tipped his head back against the wall, grateful that while he’d been unconscious, he’d been dragged upright and deposited with his back against the wall. 

“Zuko?” was Sokka’s concerned response. “Are you awake?”

Zuko swallowed painfully and tried to nod. It felt like he was nodding, but it also felt like he wasn’t actually moving at all.

“Hold on,” Sokka muttered. He sounded anxious. “I need to light this stupid fire.”

“Where are my gloves?” Zuko mumbled through inflexible lips. 

“They’re soaked. Socks, boots, too. Better to keep them off if you’re looking to warm up eventually.”

Zuko craned his neck again to look at Sokka. He saw that Sokka had removed his own footwear and was currently gripping two flintstones between bare fingers with a force that Zuko thought might break the rocks. Sokka struck the stones together, a huff of air escaping his nose. The sparks from the stones glittered as they fell over the little bed of tinder already assembled inside of the fireplace and hissed as they met the bed, immediately fizzling into nothing. 

“Tinder’s wet,” Zuko mumbled.

“I know,” Sokka said with a frustrated sigh. “I can do this, though.” He tried again, striking the stones together loudly, but despite the impressive array of spark this generated, the tinder refused to light. 

Reluctantly, Zuko dragged himself away from the wall, squaring his shoulders towards Sokka and supporting his body with one arm pressed shakily into the ground. He felt like he was moving around his own corpse, commanding limbs he could not feel. “So can I,” he said and lifted his left arm. 

“Don’t be stupid,” Sokka said and lightly slapped away Zuko’s limp arm. He struck the stones again, this time with so much force a splinter of rock actually flew off. 

Sokka voiced a yelp of delight, but Zuko had already straightened his body, slumping back against the wall. 

Zuko could tell, though, that the fire had caught by the cloud of harsh gray smoke which now rose from the fireplace to coat his lungs. Zuko coughed, feeling the white hot bloom of pain as his chest contracted. 

Sokka was immediately closer. He slid, on his knees, away from the fireplace to a spot directly in front of Zuko. When Zuko sullenly folded his legs in front of his chest, Sokka leaned closer and supported his body by resting both hands on Zuko’s knees. His gold eyes searched Zuko’s face imploringly. 

“How long was I?” Zuko asked. His question was cut off by the rise of another cough in his throat. He stopped speaking to suppress this cough.

“Not very long,” Sokka said. “How do you feel?”

Zuko didn’t think it was worth it to reply. He felt how he looked, pretty simply. 

Sokka understood. “I’m gonna dry out our stuff and try to set this place up. Just rest here for a little bit, the fire should be good for you.” He pressed himself to his feet, using Zuko’s knees for support, and coughed a little himself. 

Zuko mumbled something, but didn’t know what he’d said, and tenderly inched himself along the wall, closer to the meager fire. Its heat on his right shoulder was stark against the chilly air. He shivered, but was comfortable enough.

Sokka began to move. He grabbed the boots by the door and dropped them in front of the fire. Then he crossed to the desk under the mirror and procured both sets of gloves and socks, before placing these on the hearth as well. He turned back around and dragged both packs to the side of the bed. He dropped to a rough kneel to fuss with the packs. 

Zuko could feel the fire struggling. Without really meaning to, he stretched his right arm out so his fingers were gripping the inside of the fireplace and generated a connection to the weak flame. He knew Sokka was right, that he should conserve his energy so he didn’t pass out again, but he wanted to be warmer, so he urged a reserved amount of energy through his fingertips, fueling the flame just a little. His muscles began to relax with the heat and a weary sigh pushed out the air in his lungs. 

He dropped his hand to his side when Sokka finished rustling around by the bed, but didn’t break his connection with the fire. It was steadying him a little, this connection, making the spinning room stabilize just enough so that Zuko stopped feeling like he was going to throw up. 

Zuko looked up to inspect Sokka’s work and saw that the bed had been dressed with several blankets, which must have been acquired from one of the packs. 

Sokka was walking back towards Zuko, a wooden log in either hand. He tossed these into the fire when he was close enough and Zuko had to tighten his grasp on the fire to keep it from being crushed. He forced the flames upwards with a twitch of his fingers, artificially aiding their consumption of the new fuel. 

If Sokka noticed, he didn’t say anything. 

“How long can we stay here?” Zuko asked to fill the silence as Sokka stood around awkwardly. 

Sokka’s eyes darted to the door and to the fire before settling on Zuko’s face. “As long as the storm lasts, I guess.”

“What if they spot us?” Zuko asked and his gaze went from Sokka to the fire. “What if they spot the smoke?” He pointed a finger to the smoke that was circling upwards into the rough chimney that opened the ceiling. 

Sokka shook his head and started walking away. “Can’t see anything through the snow. We’ll be okay.” He took a seat on the edge of the bed and looked back at Zuko. “For now, though, we should sleep.”

“I want to watch the fire for a little while,” Zuko replied. He didn’t watch as Sokka moved, settling into the bed. 

“Don’t stay up too long,” Sokka cautioned, but wasn’t awake long enough to enforce. Within minutes, Sokka’s breathing had settled and Zuko finally felt like he could relax. 

When it had been long enough that his joints could adjust without being accompanied by sharp, searing pain, Zuko moved directly in front of the fire so he could face it. 

He folded his legs beneath him and placed his hands in his lap. His spine hunched forward as he relaxed his shoulders, forcing him to crane his neck upwards to maintain a visual of the fire. 

The skin of his face ached and he felt the corners of his eyes prickle with exhaustion, but he couldn’t sleep. Not when they were so close outside the city still. Not while a plume of gray smoke was currently marking which hut they were in like a massive arrow pointing directly to them. 

Even as his vision darkened and he found himself staring more at the inside of his eyelids than at the fire, he strained his ears into the howl of the storm outside. At points, he convinced himself he heard voices through the wind, but the agony of waiting for the sudden, violent approach of soldiers at the door was always replaced by the monotony of waiting for the storm to end. 

He felt so dazed. The pain wasn’t even a problem any more; the only sensation he could register was the dull throb of his heartbeat pushing against his eardrums and fingertips. 

He thought he heard voices again and wondered numbly what he would even do if soldiers confronted him right now. 

He would probably lie down and wait for them to kill him, he thought with a silent laugh. He knew he wasn’t capable of a fight.

The flames were burning through the wood too quickly for Zuko’s taste. He tried to prolong their life by supplementing the wood fuel with his own energy, but his energy was running low too. 

After a long time, the best he could do was goad a little heat into the dying embers of the fire, keeping them alive, but just barely. 

He shivered violently in the early morning air as a cloud of his breath puffed out around him. The sun hadn’t yet begun to rise, but Zuko felt that this must be now the coldest point of the night. That the dawn must be soon. 

In his semi-conscious fog, Zuko didn’t hear the rustling of the blanket as Sokka stirred, but he pulled himself to alertness when his ears, finely trained to pick up the sound of voices, heard Sokka call in a tone laden with sleep, “Zuko?”

He whipped his head around, upset at being disrupted, but Sokka’s wide, soft eyes elicited a steep gasp from Zuko and the anger was forgotten. “Yes,” he croaked and his voice made no effort to conceal his weakness. He hated that.

“Come to bed,” Sokka said, voice barely above a whisper. He looked sincerely at Zuko and slid his body over the narrow bed, pressing himself against the wall. 

Zuko said hoarsely, “What if they come?” and Sokka shook his head.

“You need to sleep,” he said and patted the empty space. “It’s too cold to be awake.”

Zuko shivered again and looked back at the coals. Without him, they would die almost immediately. With him, they’d probably die within the hour. 

It didn’t matter, Zuko realized. The fire wasn’t enough to keep him warm and he didn’t have the energy to create a better one. 

It’d be warmer in bed. 

The storm was louder now, more aggressive. It battered the meager shelter with wave after wave of icy wind. The ice walls groaned and creaked with the strain. 

He wouldn’t be able to hear anyone’s approach, whether or not he was awake.

He eyed the door suspiciously, wary of the secrets it was hiding behind it. 

“Zuko?” Sokka asked again and by his voice, Zuko could tell he was almost asleep again.

Zuko groaned and tried to stand. His legs felt like gelatin, buckling furiously under the pressure of his weight. He collapsed back on the ground, panting. 

Frustrated, he tried again, biting back the groan that rose in his throat as his stiff muscles stretched and popped. His stance was wildly unsteady, but he made it to his feet this time, breath even quicker than before. 

The air burned his lungs but he couldn’t help the pace of his breathing. 

He staggered the few steps to the bed, head swimming under the dizziness of exhaustion, and collapsed to the bed without any strength or direction. He landed on his side, turned away from Sokka. Zuko struggled with his breath, hating the way his brain was choking. He couldn’t think about the blankets. 

Sokka was making sounds, indignant nonverbal sounds of annoyance. Zuko wasn’t prepared to feel Sokka’s warm fingertips as they brushed his shoulder and travelled lightly across the length of his body. 

When Sokka’s fingertips found Zuko’s legs, which were hanging partially off the bed, Sokka gripped Zuko’s left calf and dragged the boy’s legs onto the bed. Sokka then pulled the blankets from under Zuko and gathered them up. Hastily, Sokka brought the sheets around Zuko’s shoulders and tucked them in, pressing with sleep-sloppy fingers. He sighed, content, when Zuko was secure.

Despite the narrow bed, they weren’t actually touching, but the heat radiating from Sokka made it feel like they were against each other. 

Zuko’s heavy eyelids closed but as he listened to the evenness of Sokka’s deep breaths, his racing mind continued to resist sleep. 

The first light of morning was creeping into the hut as the last of the red embers faded to gray. 

Zuko shivered deeper into the blankets, not thinking about Sokka for the first time all night, and finally, his mind eased into a light, dreamless sleep. 

When Zuko’s eyes blinked open, the light in the room was stronger, but not all that different. He sighed, relieved he hadn’t slept for too long, and promptly lapsed back into unconsciousness. 

The next time he woke, the room was freezing, somehow even colder than it’d been all night. Mind heavily fogged with sleep, Zuko pressed himself backwards into the only source of heat, forgetting momentarily that the heat was Sokka, and realized that they were already touching. Zuko prickled as the mental fog lifted briefly, allowing him to sense the contact. Sokka’s chest was pressed tightly against Zuko’s back, trapping heat between their bodies. One arm was around Zuko’s waist, the other was under Zuko’s neck, pinning them both down, and he was breathing into Zuko’s hair, providing more warmth than Zuko thought possible. Zuko’s senses numbed over again as he relaxed into the shape of Sokka’s body.

He sighed and let sleep take over again. 

When he woke for the third time, he was alone on the bed.

The bright mid-morning light invading his weary vision was blinding and the screech of the violent storm swirling outside was deafening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this less of a cliffhanger if I just tell yall it's not a cliffhanger?


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I missed y'all! I didn't realize it had been over a week since I'd last posted, but I'm a little burnt out from crazy life. so here's half of what I had planned for chapter 14 and all of what I have written so far. I'd rather give you guys this now than push myself on the last half, so I'm gonna save that for another day and hopefully I will have more energy to write again soon ❤️

Zuko took a breath like he’d never breathed before in his life. He relished in its ease. 

Last night, his ribs had felt brittle and tight around his lungs. He’d been afraid to take a full breath, but the long, deep inhale he was breathing now didn’t bruise against his skeleton. It was immensely gratifying. 

Without rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he could tell that a fire was lit in the room. As he continued inhaling, he felt for the flames, tugging them upward with his breath, just a little. Just until he felt lightheaded from the sudden surge of electricity that jolted from his nose down his throat to his fingertips. The rush knocked the breath from Zuko’s throat. The disruption in his breathing didn't even shudder his inner flame. 

He shook his fingertips, confused. Firebending like this never gave him more energy. Not unless he slept for a really long time and was warm throughout the entire night and was relaxed enough the whole time and could draw energy from multiple sources, not just from himself. 

He stopped the train of thought. All it was conjuring was the faint memory of Sokka’s body against his. And then all Zuko could see was gold eyes, then a cluster of Sokka’s hair tumbling over his forehead, brushing against one of his eyebrows.

Stop.

He couldn’t have slept that long. 

Not long enough that he’d have any actual power, right? Not long enough that he felt actually a little better now, surely.

The light that Zuko could register wasn’t bright. It was weak enough that Zuko hoped it could still be mid-morning.

A gust of wind hit the wall of the bed, chilling Zuko and he realized he had to factor in the storm. Considering the heavy snowfall which could obstruct the day’s sunlight, he figured it had to be before noon, still, at least.

He yawned then, sleep still tugging at his mind, and stretched his limbs, still laying down, head pressed into a pillow. He was sore like he hadn’t moved in hours, but it wasn’t the same soreness as last night. 

He sat up and without his head on the pillow, he could hear the faint sound of Sokka humming over the storm.

Zuko groaned. “How long was I asleep?” he asked. 

By way of answer, Sokka said, "This is lunch.” 

Zuko’s eyes found Sokka finally, huddled by the fireplace, roasting two fish on sticks over the flames. 

Zuko never cared much for fish, but today, the scent of the salt-preserved bodies brought tears to his eyes. 

He groaned again and swung his legs out so he could sit on the edge of the bed. “You shouldn’t have let me sleep so long.”

“Why not?” Sokka asked, not looking up from the fish. “You were tired.”

“I like waking up with the sun,” Zuko said.

“Too bad you fell asleep with the sunrise then.” Sokka sounded upset.

“Someone needed to keep watch,” Zuko said to cut, offended by Sokka’s tone.

“No one needed to keep watch,” Sokka said and shot an exasperated look at Zuko. “You needed to rest.”

Zuko prickled. He was fine, he didn’t need Sokka to treat him like a child. “I’m fine. We can leave right now.”

Sokka’s stare at Zuko pointed. “Pretty conveniently, there’s a storm outside, Zuko.” He turned to flip the fish. “We’re stuck here until it’s over and I’m going to make you rest until you don’t look like you’re seconds from death.”

Zuko resented the accusation that he looked like he was dying. He felt fine. Maybe he didn’t feel good, but he could handle worse than this. At least he was in control of his senses now and could move without aching, searing pain. “I’m fine,” he growled and Sokka pulled the fish from the fire. 

“Sure,” Sokka said. “Stay where you are.”

Zuko promptly tried to stand up, but Sokka, both fish in one hand, crossed the room quickly and stopped Zuko by pressing his unoccupied hand to Zuko’s chest. Firmly, Sokka pushed Zuko back down to a seat on the edge of the bed. He offered one of the fish and his eyes told Zuko to not try moving again.

Zuko took the fish sullenly, but didn’t reject the meal. He knew how to eat a whole fish, sucking on the flesh to tug it from the bone. It wasn’t a dignified way to eat, he knew it would horrify his father, but somehow the fact that Sokka was here, eating the same way, made Zuko feel less uncomfortable.

Sokka remained standing as he ate, silently surveying Zuko’s movements. When he’d finished, he said, “You seem better.”

Zuko nodded and finished his own meal. It was gone too quickly. There was still an emptiness it hadn’t satiated, but he knew better than to disrupt Sokka’s resource rationing by asking for more. Even though he wanted to ask for more. He tossed the bone into the fire. Sokka did the same in a moment. “What’s the plan now?” Zuko asked.

His question earned him a small, earnest smile from Sokka. “Wow, you really are feeling better.”

“Shut up, what’s the plan?”

“Honestly, I think the storm is lucky.” Sokka sat on the bed a cautious distance from Zuko. “They’ll be stuck in the city. Maybe they’ll read my letter. In a day or so, when the storm’s past its peak, we can head out again. I can navigate.”

“To the outpost?”

“No,” Sokka said with a laugh of disbelief. “To the next storm shelter. It’s at least a day’s walk from here.”

Zuko groaned and dropped his head, supporting it with his hands, elbows on his knees. “How far to the outpost?”

“Eh,” Sokka offered. Zuko craned his neck to glare at him. “I don’t know. A week, maybe a little less. Not that far. It just depends on, uh, environmental conditions.”

“Once the storm’s gone, what’s going to slow us down?”

Sokka laughed again, quiet and dry. “You mean besides wind, ice, snowmelt, snowfall, snowdrift, snow predators, falling ice shelves and boat sized man eating fish monsters?”

“What?” Zuko gaped and his brow furrowed.

He earned himself a warmer laugh from Sokka this time. Sokka said, “Maybe I exaggerate a little. But there’s a reason this was the best way for us to escape. No one really wants to follow us all the way out here. Not when winter’s approaching like it is.”

“What does that mean?” Zuko asked.

“It’s dangerous out here like this, everything I said, and more, but you’re more likely to die of exposure. In a week, winter will be here, the sun will set and won’t make it above the horizon again until spring.”

Zuko grimaced. “So we need to make it to the outpost before then.”

“It’d be ideal, yeah. We can still travel during the winter, we’ll just be slower and the waterbenders will have a stronger advantage over us.”

“I can’t bend without the sun,” Zuko said. 

There was silence for a moment and Zuko’s words hung in the air. 

Then, “What?”

Zuko regretted what he’d said. “What?”

“What do you mean you can’t bend without the sun?”

Zuko grimaced. “I mean I can’t bend without the sun. I thought you meant you knew that.”

“I meant that waterbenders are stronger with the moon. You’re telling me if the invasion lasts longer than a week, we’ve won? The firebenders will be useless?”

Zuko swallowed carefully. “I guess,” he said noncommittally. 

“Hm,” Sokka mumbled and turned away from Zuko. His brow furrowed and it looked like he was thinking hard.

“What does this change?” Zuko was afraid to ask, to find out what he’d done.

“Nothing, I guess,” Sokka said absentmindedly. “I’m just thinking we might have a chance of surviving this fight.”

“By we, you mean the Northern Water tribe?” 

Sokka looked back at Zuko and his eyes shone. “It doesn’t matter. At least, I can’t do anything about it. I’m coming with you, remember?”

“What do you think the invasion is here to do?” Zuko heard his own voice and was surprised at its audacity.

Sokka raised a surprised eyebrow at Zuko. “Your guess is as good as mine. I figure either total annihilation or just a genocide of our waterbenders and warriors.” His tone was light, but the words hit Zuko hard. 

“Why have they left you alone for so long, then?” Zuko asked. 

“Yeah and why are Zhao and Iroh leading this attack specifically? What do they have to do with this?” Sokka saw the look in Zuko’s eyes and eased up. “I don’t know. They must think we’re a serious threat. It hasn’t been worth it to try to wipe us out.”.

“Until now, you mean.”

Sokka’s expression revealed exasperation and he rolled his eyes. He asked, “Okay, so what changed? Why now?”

Zuko couldn’t answer. “I don’t understand why my uncle’s here. He wouldn’t have come to participate in a slaughter.”

“You think the invasion is coming for something else, then?” Sokka said and his expression was stormy. Zuko could tell that Sokka’s mind was running.

“I don’t know,” Zuko said, shaking his head. “Would it change something for you if I did?”

“No,” Sokka said, but this sounded like a lie.

Zuko sucked his teeth and said nothing. Of course it would change something. 

“Why do you care suddenly?”

Zuko shook his head again. “I’m just trying to understand,” he said, but he knew it felt like a lie and he feared Sokka could tell too. “I’m afraid,” he said, trying to find something that felt honest. “You’d rather be back there, fighting with them, when the boats arrive. You have something to lose in this.”

“I have something to lose if we don’t do this, too, remember?”

Zuko was beginning to make himself dizzy, shaking his head so much. “Barely,” he said quietly, head lolling from side to side. 

“Not barely,” Sokka said firmly and Zuko could feel Sokka’s eyes drilling into the back of his neck. “Maybe this means more to me than it does to you,” he said and Zuko thought he sounded defeated. 

“It doesn’t,” Zuko found himself admitting in a quiet grumble. He shocked himself. A week ago, he knew that he didn’t care about his soulmate connection. He knew that he wasn’t going to waste his time on fairy tales or myths. He was sure that there wasn’t a single force in the universe strong enough to make someone love him. 

But for all the rationalization he attempted in his head, Zuko couldn’t keep himself from hearing a tiny voice in his head, shrieking that Sokka could be permanent. That they would figure everything out, like Sokka kept promising. 

To drown out the noise, Zuko asked, “Why doesn’t it bother you anymore?”

“What bother me?”

“The firebending thing,” Zuko tried to say casually. “I mean it bothered you before. Now it doesn’t?”

Sokka sighed. “Look, I hate firebenders. You know I hate firebenders.” He sighed again. “But that’s not your fault, I shouldn’t have tried to put it on you. I was treating you like a criminal, but you hadn’t even done anything. I was acting like Arnook and Pakku.”

“I should have told you what I am,” Zuko said and winced. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you myself.”

“Yes, you should’ve,” Sokka fixed a frosty glance on Zuko, which Zuko craned his neck to meet. Sokka sighed when their eyes met and let the look relax. “I was hurt. It felt like you were lying to me about something everybody else seemed to already know. But it wasn’t fair of me. I shouldn’t have left.”

Zuko felt a muscle in his throat clench. “Don’t apologize,” he grumbled. “I messed up.”

“Yeah, okay,” Sokka said. “I forgive you.”

Zuko flushed, his blood heating viciously. If Sokka’s apology had felt bad, his forgiveness felt worse. “I don’t want your forgiveness,” Zuko mumbled without meaning to. “Or your apology.”

Sokka clicked his tongue. He moved, sliding himself backwards across the bed so his shoulders were against the wall as he sat. “What do you want then? Me to be mad?” he asked quietly. 

Zuko didn’t answer.

“I’m not going to hate you just to make this easy.”

Zuko’s eyes flashed over his shoulder to examine Sokka’s face. Sokka was looking down, but his brow was furrowed tightly and his eyes were closed. “It’d be easier if you hated me, though,” he reminded Sokka.

Sokka’s forehead clenched even more. “No, I’d just feel bad. And lonely.”

“I’m not your only chance. You have Yue.”

“Yue was a compromise,” Sokka said. He sounded sad. He paused for a moment to think, before adding, “Mostly, I was just scared you’d never even come to find me. That in the Fire Nation, people don’t even care about having a soulmate.” He released a laugh from his nose. “I guess I was right, sort of, in the end. You didn’t mean to find me.” He pushed off of the bed and headed for one of the packs.

Zuko’s head spun and he closed his eyes so he didn’t have to look at Sokka anymore. He hadn’t meant it like that. “Wait, no,” he said hazily. He suddenly felt very, very tired. And very, very guilty. He hated the sadness in Sokka’s tone, the deflation of his words like even the air in his lungs was disappointing him. “It’s not like that,” he said.

Sokka paused his rummaging through the pack. “No?” His voice contained a restrained sort of eagerness.

“No,” Zuko said softly because the word was painful on his tongue. He felt like he needed to explain himself, but struggled with what to say. “I just figured you’d hate me if you met me. How could I have known you wanted to meet me? I always thought I’d just be interrupting your happy life pretending you didn’t have a Fire Nation soulmate.” He opened his eyes and stared straight forward. 

“Why’d you assume I hate the Fire Nation?” Sokka said, withdrawing an iron pot from the backpack. 

Zuko sighed, emptying his lungs. “I’m not stupid, Sokka. I knew what was happening. What my father was doing.”

Sokka didn’t respond immediately. He paused, weighing the pot in his hands for a moment, then stood and exited the hut after putting on his boots. He was only gone briefly, but it was long enough that Zuko felt like he was being swallowed by the overlapping chatter in his head.

Sokka said as he re-entered the hut at length, “So you knew what he was doing to my people.” The pot in his hands was now full of crisp white snow. He didn’t take off his boots as he walked into the room. 

Zuko put his head in between his hands. “Not specifically,” he said to soften it, but he felt ashamed for this. He shouldn’t be trying to make himself sympathetic to Sokka. If Sokka was going to hate him, he should do it now. “I knew he was looking for the next avatar in the Water Tribes. He wanted to continue what Sozin started with the air nomads,” he admitted.

Sokka made a strange sound, like he was choking on his breath, but Zuko didn’t raise his head to venture a look. “The avatar hasn’t been seen for a hundred years,” Sokka said after recovering himself. “Your father’s wasting his time on the Water Tribes.”

“I know,” Zuko said. “Doesn’t mean I could do anything to stop him. I just knew about it. Figured you’d hate me even more for not stopping everything.”

Sokka took his time considering his words before saying, “I don’t blame you for that.” Zuko heard Sokka set the pot down in the fire. The flames hissed as the snow on the outside of the pot dripped down. 

Zuko was set up for a response he could blurt out without thinking, at least. “Why not?” he heard himself ask.

Zuko’s mind felt numb. He couldn’t decide if he thought that Sokka was lying or if Sokka was sincere. In the moment, he couldn’t decide which option he was more afraid of.

Sokka sat back down on the bed forcefully. The mattress rocked and Zuko felt his stomach toss with the motion. 

“It looks like you tried,” Sokka said and Zuko winced violently. The skin around his left eye suddenly felt hot and itchy and Zuko’s fingers twitched, an impression of his urge to scrape at the scar. “You told me you tried,” Sokka said in a rush. 

Zuko didn’t know what to name the emotion bubbling in this throat. It rose, spreading over his tongue and teeth like a syrup. 

He named it anger, because it was easier to assign this feeling the characteristics of anger than it was to decipher the complications of it, and spat the first hurtful thing he could think of. “This”, he said, sharpening the word, “was not for you.” He had to say more. His throat felt tight, swollen and scratchy, but he hadn’t made a point yet. “He did this to me because I spoke out against a plan that would’ve been suicide for his soldiers. Fire Nation soldiers. I never spoke out against his treatment of the Water Tribes.” There was a short silence and Zuko briefly hoped he’d stung Sokka.

“He did this to you?”

Zuko bristled and felt a more solid anger. Something he could actually recognize and justify to himself. “What?” Of course Sokka would latch onto the first thing he’d said and completely ignore the insult at the end. 

“Fine, I get it. You didn’t say anything about the Water Tribes, or the Avatar, or anything but Fire Nation soldiers. Your priority is Fire Nation. It’s understood. You’ve made yourself clear. What do you mean he did this to you?”

Zuko grumbled a curse under his breath, before saying roughly, “I already told you.”

“No you didn’t.” Sokka was moving, closer. Zuko could feel Sokka’s eyes but he wasn’t going to meet them. “You told me you disrespected your father and that you were taught a lesson. You didn’t say who actually burned you.”

“It doesn’t matter,” and Zuko was surprised by the heaviness of his voice, surprised at the coldness of a new emotion weighing down his tongue like lead.

Sokka clicked his tongue, but it was a soft sound. Zuko felt Sokka shift around, even closer to Zuko. Their shoulders almost touched. “I get it,” Sokka said, but sounded immediately doubtful. He waited a while before asking softly, “Well, other than hurt you, what has the Firelord done to deserve your unending loyalty, Zuko?”

Zuko felt a shiver. It felt like liquid ice was replacing his blood, circulating through his chest, sinking into the cavities and drilling an ache through the bone. He offered a deliberately dry laugh. “Deserve?”

Sokka shifted away from Zuko and Zuko felt colder. 

“Loyalty is something I owe my father.” He tried to assemble the right words to make Sokka understand. Maybe if he repeated Ozai’s words. “I shouldn’t be alive. If a different Firelord was my father, I’d just be a dead traitor.” Sokka murmured something that sounded like an agreement, but didn’t try to interrupt Zuko. “I remember before my grandfather died, he tried to have me killed. He ordered my father to do it, but when the time came, my father took mercy and spared my life. But the price of that life was my loyalty. If I can’t prove my honor as his son, I’m worthless to him. He protected my life for nothing.” 

Sokka was quiet and Zuko’s words thudded against his ears. The voice sounded false, reciting a sentiment as if his father were around to hear. Loyalty to Ozai, betrayal to Ozai, did it matter at all when Ozai was too far away to do anything about it? 

“I can’t betray my father,” Zuko said to still the argument of his thoughts, neck prickling as if Ozai could hear across the distance. Zuko's voice squeaked, subtly enough he could harbor a hope Sokka didn’t notice, as he continued, “Proving myself to him and the eyes of my nation is the only way I can regain whatever honor I had before I was born, looking like this.” Zuko felt like he was repeating propaganda, regurgitating words that meant nothing. Prove? The drive to prove himself to his father was a distant memory, clouded by the snow of the North Pole and the more recent memory of Ozai’s disgust. Zuko had given up a long time ago on proving himself, really. Ozai wanted perfection and as he reminded Zuko constantly, Zuko would always fall short. None of his efforts for his father would go rewarded, or unpunished. All that loyalty, for what?

He winced his eyes shut and realized he didn’t want Sokka to think that he resented the deformity of his ocean colored eyes. He hated them, hated the strangeness that had haunted his entire life in the Fire Nation, it was true, but Sokka didn’t need to know that. And besides, the blue was starting to grow on him here.

Sokka asked, humming a little, “You don’t really believe that do you?”

Zuko bristled. The flame dancing in the fireplace twitched still suddenly and sizzled.

Sokka sighed and said, “Look, I mean, I understand, your father is a maniac.”

The flame popped. 

Sokka continued, “But you’re overcompensating, I mean.”

Zuko rolled his eyes beneath closed lids and released his hold on the fire.

Sokka sucked in a gulp of air and tried again, “You haven’t done anything wrong, is what I’m trying to say. If your father has made you feel like you need to work to regain something you lost the minute you were born, he’s the wrong one. He’s your father. He owes you a lot more than not killing you.”

“What do you know?” Zuko mumbled, but there wasn’t any bite to it. 

“I know that this was cruel,” Sokka said and Zuko felt Sokka’s fingertips on his left temple. Zuko flinched away harshly, but Sokka didn’t yield. He eased closer to Zuko, gently cupping his hand around the side of Zuko’s face to caress the scarred skin with his thumb. “And wrong. You didn’t deserve this.”

Zuko flashed open his eyes and searched Sokka’s face for a lie, though he hadn’t heard one. 

Sokka’s face was hard. His lips were pressed into a thin line and gouges of deep frown lines dissected his cheeks and forehead. 

Zuko felt his cheek twitch where Sokka was thumbing a circle. 

He felt the prick of hot tears itch the corner of both eyes and Sokka’s fingers pressed into his hairline. He nodded his head into Sokka’s palm. 

Sokka’s face softened and his eyes misted. He flattened his palm against Zuko’s cheekbone and ran his thumb over Zuko’s brow bone, the line where an eyebrow used to be. “I wish I had been there,” Sokka said. “I would’ve protected you.”

Zuko felt his head sway in a numb shake. He pressed more into Sokka’s palm, not knowing what to call this feeling inside of him curling up in his belly and making an uneasy home there. He felt nauseous and in need of comfort, though he couldn’t justify it. 

He thought Sokka didn’t know what he was talking about. He tried to tell Sokka this, but all he managed was an incoherent mumble.

Sokka’s eyes narrowed, darting around Zuko’s face to try and read its expression. His lips pursed even tighter and suddenly, he was leaning forward. Zuko closed his eyes as their foreheads met, soft and warm. Sokka’s hand moved, sliding to a gentle grasp around the back of Zuko’s neck. 

Sokka said, “I never wanted more than this. My whole life, even when I had doubts, I think I knew I was just waiting for this.”

“Was it worth waiting?” Zuko’s numb lips allowed him to ask. He could feel his breath reflecting back at him off of Sokka’s face. He could feel Sokka’s breath too.

“No,” Sokka said with a laugh, releasing a heavy exhale. Zuko’s skin shivered where Sokka’s breath met it. “I should’ve met you earlier so I could’ve taken you away from all of this sooner. Before everything got this complicated.”

“Now is good,” Zuko said. His thoughts were beginning to fuzzy. It was hard to concentrate with Sokka’s lips so close. 

“Yeah,” Sokka agreed, but his tone was too heavy and Zuko felt him wince. 

Zuko flinched, breaking away from Sokka to eye him warily. 

Sokka released his grip on Zuko and brought both hands up in the air in an exaggerated show of defeat. “I’m sorry,” he said and tried to smile. 

“Don’t,” Zuko said gruffly and didn’t understand why he was upset. He didn’t want Sokka to be so far away now, but he had flinched away and the damage was done. Sokka’s touch had been warm, now its absence was icy and breathtaking. 

Zuko wanted to slide closer, regain that fuzzy feeling of comfort he’d just had a second ago, but now he felt lied to and he couldn’t shake that feeling. 

“What are you hiding from me?” Zuko asked after the silence had stretched for too long. His tone was emotionless, but he felt agonized. 

Sokka tensed and the distance between them grew as Sokka stood. He sighed, nervously, and ran a hand through his ponytail, messying it. He paced for a couple steps, but stopped abruptly in front of Zuko. “Will you look at me?” he asked and his voice almost cracked, so Zuko looked up. 

Sokka’s face was open and pleading as he said, “I'm not trying to hide anything.”

Zuko waited for more as his eyes unwillingly traced the flyaways of Sokka’s hair.

Sokka seemed to crumple under Zuko’s harsh stare. “There’s just something I can’t tell you yet.”

“Why not?” Zuko was upset, but curious. He hadn’t expected Sokka to admit the lie. What kind of a game is played like this, Zuko thought, and then he thought that maybe there was no game after all. He searched Sokka’s eyes, but his eyes were stubbornly guarding his secret. 

“Zuko, please. I promise I’ll tell you, I’m not going to lie, I just can’t tell you until we’re farther away.”

“Why?” Zuko stood, startling Sokka, who hastily drew backwards by a couple of steps.

“Please trust me. I know you don’t believe me, but I will tell you as soon as we’ve reached the outpost and we’ve made it too far to go back to the city. I just need it to wait until you can’t change your mind about this.”

“Why would it change my mind about this? What are you talking about?”

Sokka sighed. “Do you trust me that I’ll tell you?”

“No,” Zuko said immediately, but it felt without emphasis and he knew instantly he wasn't telling the truth.

Damn those eyes, he thought as he swam in the gold that was Sokka. He could tell by the sincerity of Sokka’s expression that he hadn't been lied to. It didn’t feel fair to lie to Sokka in return. “No, I believe you. You’ll tell me later.” Zuko’s voice sounded defeated to his own ears. He felt for the anger he thought would be hiding in his throat, but he didn't find it. 

“I promise, Zuko,” Sokka said eagerly. 

Zuko’s face relaxed and he offered Sokka a weak smile. “I believe you,” he said and was rewarded with a sunbeam smile from Sokka. 

Zuko felt the ice in his blood thaw under the warmth of Sokka’s expression. He sat back down on the bed, suddenly overwhelmed and anxious to return the comfort he’d felt when Sokka had still been holding him. 

Sokka stayed standing, oblivious to Zuko’s unvoiced thoughts. Zuko cursed himself for thinking. After a moment, Sokka said, “I think the storm’s starting to die down.”

Zuko noticed. The howl of the wind outside had long been quiet and the light in the room was beginning to strengthen. There wasn’t any more time to waste talking and he didn’t want to think anymore about what Sokka’s fingertips felt like against his face. “Time to leave, then,” he said and stood again. 

Sokka seemed hesitant, like the matter hadn’t been settled and he wasn’t ready to move on. “Maybe we should stay,” he said and Zuko reacted with a glare. “Fine, we’ll go. But we won’t make it by dark at this point.”

“You can navigate, can’t you?”

“Of course I can navigate,” Sokka said. He puffed out his chest. “I’m a great navigator, just don’t ask anyone.”

Zuko’s lips tightened, though it was more a smile than a frown. “We’ll be fine, then. It’s better to keep moving.”

Sokka agreed reluctantly with a click of his tongue. He jerked his head towards the bed. “Help me pack?”

Zuko snatched the pillows from the bed. “Where do you want these?” he asked and Sokka responded by throwing him one of the packs that had been abandoned on the floor. 

Zuko shoved the pillows inside, then the blankets too. That alone nearly filled the pack, which hadn’t been totally empty when Zuko had received it. 

Sokka was relacing his boots as Zuko glanced about the room, noting the few items that were arrayed around the room, either resting on the floor or on the desk. 

Sokka collected their things, just a few maps he must have taken out at some point today and a bundle of paper tied with twine that Zuko assumed was wrapping their food. 

Zuko tied his pack shut and stood. He paced the room, retrieving his gloves and outer parka from where they still were resting on the ground in front of the fireplace. 

He finished clothing himself for the weather outside before Sokka had finished packing. So Zuko took a seat on the bed, leaning his pack against the frame, while he watched Sokka pull the pot, now full of warm potable water, off of the fire and pour the liquid contents into an animal skin pouch. When he was done, Sokka packed both the skin and the pot in his bag. 

With all of his outer clothes on, Zuko was warm, almost too warm, he worried about sweating. But he was comfortable, watching Sokka, allowing a little more room for the hope that they could be happy. As long as Sokka’s secret didn’t ruin everything.

Zuko almost had to remind himself to care about Sokka’s secret. He was fighting to maintain anger over the deceit, but he couldn’t struggle for long. Instead, he found himself feeling that the whole concern would matter only when Sokka decided it mattered. Right now, Sokka didn’t think it was relevant. Zuko wanted it to be fine to trust Sokka’s decision in this matter. He wanted to trust Sokka. Already did trust Sokka. He wanted to believe that whatever Sokka was hiding couldn’t be that bad. That it would all be okay, somehow.

Sokka finished slipping his gloves on and grabbed something in his hands from the floor under the desk, where Zuko hadn't seen. It looked like a set of wooden nets, circular with straps spanning the diameter. Sokka turned a cheery smile at Zuko. “Ready for the worst walk of your life?”

“That should have been last night,” Zuko said. 

“Tonight’ll be colder. And earlier.” 

Zuko groaned and rolled himself off of the bed, grabbing his pack as he went, slinging it over his shoulder. “Fine,” he said. “I’m ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (sorry for not finishing more) but Zuko and Sokka snow day bonding and second night alone together in the tundra is up next! maybe it'll go fine, maybe not. who knows? (I know)


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not dead! just had a sprained wrist that's finally starting to feel better. sorry for making y'all wait so long for this!

The world outside the snow shelter felt vacant, devoid of color, sound, even light. The sun was filtering down through heavy, wet snowflakes, but it was weak, and low to the ground, offering little by way of warmth. 

A thick white blanket of snow coated everything Zuko could see, muffling every sound but his own heartbeat. Every part of the landscape was indistinguishable from every other. The hills blended into the valleys and the sky blended into the horizon. Zuko felt incredibly, incredibly lost. 

Snow was still falling in clumps, slow and dense, from the sky straight down with no resistance from the feeble wind.

Wrapped in all his layers and still carrying the heat he had built up inside, Zuko was comfortable, at least. The quiet was absolute and he felt steady. Zuko wasn’t thinking about the men following them. He was thinking about the perfect stillness, the tranquility of the scene before him as the snowflakes collected in the fur trim of his parka and on his eyelashes. 

Zuko took a deep breath as Sokka wiggled the door of the shelter to a firm shut behind them. 

Agni must have been feeling favorable because as Zuko breathed and felt each glimmer of snow-filtered sunlight on his face, he felt the rumble of his inner flame and an unnatural warmth in his veins.

Sokka was saying something, but through his hood and the static silence of fresh snowfall, Zuko couldn’t understand. He turned to face Sokka and tried to lip read, but as Sokka’s facial expressions became more dramatic and his mittened gestures became more erratic, Zuko’s face settled into a clear expression of confusion. 

Sokka sighed, frustrated, and drew close to Zuko so that their noses were almost touching. Sokka motioned for Zuko to turn his head, so Zuko did. 

Sokka spoke, and Zuko could feel the damp warmth of Sokka’s breath on his ear, despite the hood. “Have you ever walked with snowshoes before?”

Zuko shook his head, which Sokka felt. 

Sokka said to Zuko’s ear, “It’s awkward, but it’s not that hard. You just need to have a wide stance and lift your legs high. Don’t knock the shoes together, it’ll ruin your balance.” He handed Zuko two of the netted wooden things he’d grabbed just before they’d left, of which Zuko now saw there were four total. 

Zuko watched Sokka strap the things to his feet, setting his foot down directly on top of the net, then bringing the strap over the top of his foot, connecting it to the other side. 

When Zuko felt confident, he followed Sokka’s movements, setting his feet down gingerly on top of the “snowshoes” and cinching the straps tightly over his boots. As he finished with the last strap, Sokka gestured for him to come close to listen again. 

“We need to head southeast. The sun’s setting over there, so we need to go this direction.” Zuko felt Sokka move and his eyes darted to the right to watch with his periphery Sokka’s arm, gesturing towards a point opposite the sun.

Zuko couldn’t stop himself from reaching out his own arm and gently grasping Sokka’s. He dragged Sokka’s arm to the right a little, so that he was actually pointing southeast, then drew in close, stepping around Sokka’s side to say in his ear, “Southeast.”

Zuko pulled away suddenly and Sokka watched with wide eyes. So Zuko pointed one gloved hand then drew an arc from it with his other hand, downward and to the right. Like Sokka had done earlier. 

“You remembered,” Sokka said excitedly, loudly enough Zuko could hear him over the snow. He seemed touched by Zuko’s simple gesture. 

Zuko was proud of himself for a moment. Then wondered what he was doing. Then wondered what he was doing wondering what he was doing. Maybe if he just focused on the war and his father and the inescapable ticking time clock of the incoming invasion, he wouldn’t have so much spare room in his head to wonder what he was doing with Sokka. To wonder about all the strange things Sokka said and did. 

They were walking, Zuko realized with a start. When had they started? Had they spoken more? It didn’t matter. 

Sokka was leading, steadier over the snow than Zuko. 

Zuko was horribly uncoordinated with the snowshoes. His legs felt heavier than usual and with every other step or so, he couldn’t seem to help scooping up a mass of snow with the front of the snowshoe. 

If Sokka’s steps were a confident stride forward, Zuko’s were an awkward waddle, limping after the imprint of Sokka’s footsteps. 

With the sun on his back, Zuko was starting to feel the ache of too much warmth in his shoulders and lower back. Sweat condensated on his forehead and under his arms, chafing his skin against the fabric of his parka. 

This was practice for his breathing, Zuko suggested to himself. The walk was relentless, punishment on his chest, a constant protest on his weary lungs, so he practiced his control and forced his mind empty except for the direction of his breathing. 

Left foot down, exhale in, two, three, four. Right foot down, exhale out, two, three, four. Left foot down, exhale in. 

The problem was that it worked. As Zuko steadied his breathing, worked to make each effort of the breath deliberate and thoughtful, his inner flame churned responsively and brought an eruption of heat through his abdomen and upwards, until he could feel its clammy weight in his throat. 

He trudged forward, resenting each step, biting back the urge to throw off the parkas and feel the embrace of the cold arctic air on his sweating skin. 

When the sun set soon after, Zuko stopped thinking of the arctic air as an embrace and more of an assault. The moments before sunset, Zuko couldn’t savor because they were so brief. The sun slipped below the horizon in an instant, momentarily igniting the clouds with a flare of pink and red, before winking away just as quickly below a bruised black-purple sky, taking with it all the day’s heat in a flash. 

Zuko braced himself as he felt the last sunbeam slide off his face and worked even harder to maintain disciplined control over his breathing. As the moments after sundown melted past, it became harder and harder to breathe, but as long as Zuko didn’t break the rhythm, he could still feel the steady flicker of a strong flame inside him. 

He stubbornly clung to the focus of his breathing even as the sky faded from dark purple to unyielding black and the sweat of the day turned icy cold on Zuko’s skin. The slap of the air was cool against his cheeks, but with rigorous effort over his breathing, Zuko’s inner chest burned hot and steady. 

“Do you still know what direction you’re going?” he yelled into the darkness ahead of him, mostly to ask the question, but also to reaffirm that Sokka was even still present. 

Miraculously, Sokka heard. “Yes,” he shouted back, over his shoulder. The direction of the wind was towards them now, blowing the sound of Sokka’s voice back to Zuko. 

A rush of new heat with the confirmation of Sokka’s nearness and with his teeth, Zuko yanked his glove off of his right hand. 

He held it out, upturned palm collecting a handful of snowflakes as his bare fingers shook, and conjured a flame, which sizzled over the already melted snow-water in the pocket of his palm. 

That alone took so much heat from him. Zuko felt the healthy flame in his hand steal all the warmth he’d been collecting in his limbs, drawing it rapidly from his feet upwards. He grit his teeth and worked harder with his breath to spur his inner flame. The light from this fire he was stoking between his fingers was too valuable to abandon for warmth’s sake. 

By the light of his fire, Zuko could see the ground, the bumps and swells of the snowfall, otherwise obscured by the cloak of night. 

Heat prickled above Zuko’s hand, warming the blood and forcing the circulation of his fingers. He steeled his thoughts to center around this heat, forcing the flame to beat to the rhythm of his breaths, in time with the dance of his inner flame. He let it all run together in his head; the warmth of his body, the fire within, and the fire in his hand were the same fire, all directed by the controlled firebending of his breath. 

The sudden coldness of Sokka’s body against the hard-won heat of his own as Zuko collided with Sokka, stopped dead in his tracks, the outstretched flame in Zuko’s palm extending past both their bodies, was a shock for Zuko, a brief falter in his otherwise unfaltering breathing, and he was racked with a deep shiver. He instinctively drew closer to Sokka. 

“I don’t think we’re alone,” Sokka said, pressing back against the resistance of Zuko’s form and leaning towards his ear. 

“Waterbenders?” Zuko asked, loud, so that Sokka could hear. 

“Shh,” Sokka said quickly. “I don’t think it’s human. Listen.”

Zuko obediently strained his ears and sure enough, with a little imagination, he could make out the low rumble of an animal groan over the static of his hood. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” Sokka said and leaned forward just enough to withdraw his boomerang from its sheath on his back. “Hopefully we don’t find out. Stay alert,” he said and moved sincerely away from Zuko, leading them forward once again. 

Zuko was painstakingly aware of the noise they were generating, the steady sounds of their feet disrupting the snow and their clothes rustling against themselves. He worried also about the flame in his hand, worried about the attention the light may attract, but couldn’t risk abandoning it. He thought that Sokka might need the light too, after all. And then he had to chastise himself for thinking about Sokka again when he had just decided that thinking about Sokka was dizzy and desperate. 

Maybe all this thinking about Sokka was why when he heard the crunch of four paws on the snow just barely to their right and the low snarl of an arctic wolf issuing a warning through its teeth, Zuko’s response was a second late, a momentary falter his father would have caught and ripped him apart for. 

But Sokka yelped in reaction to the animal’s presence and readied his boomerang behind his shoulder to prepare for the battle with the wolf. There was no one around to criticize Zuko’s form as he curled his fingers around the flame in his hand, pressing it into his palm where he felt it burn, the size of a coin in his tightly balled fist. 

Left foot forward. Fists raised. Deep breath. 

Sokka was yelling, but he wasn’t rushing forward. He couldn’t see the beast either. 

The fear in the air was heavy and dry on Zuko’s brow. 

He blinked at the end of his breath, a bead of sweat dripped around his eyebrow and down his cheek. 

Right elbow up and back. 

The hot spot on Zuko’s palm burned hotter as he forced tension into his arm, stirring his inner flame relentlessly to bring it to a roar, until he felt molten blood pouring through his veins, a bottled up tension he couldn’t contain for long. 

Another glance at Sokka confirmed he was still out of the line of fire and Zuko’s body was propelled forward, right arm striking suddenly outward, releasing a blast of orange flame, sizzling hot and bright against the night sky. 

Momentum still tugged Zuko forward and he felt himself dive, his right foot igniting a spark on the ground as it dragged against it, like a match against flint, as he leapt upwards. He led with his right leg as he folded, flipping himself in the air, a whip of fire trailing from his foot, growing as he approached the ground. 

Zuko’s right foot met the softly packed snow, colliding with a flurry of sparks and a wave of heat. The fire whip followed, completing its arc through the air and slashing through the darkness until it met the ground in a sudden, explosive blaze. Fire rose in curls of waves through the air, blowing away in the wind from where it had met its release. The crackle of flame was loud against the stillness of the night.

Over the soft, controlled pants of Zuko’s breath, he could hear the animal whimper and rush away, its soft paws beating rapidly against the snow. The wail of Zuko’s nerves crescendoed against his skull, then quieted, settling into a low hum.

His hands felt numb now and his inner flame was receding into negligence. 

He heard Sokka whistle and felt the new heat of a blush across his cheeks. Hopefully Sokka was as okay with firebending as he kept saying he was now. 

When Sokka approached, Zuko wanted to apologize, for his form, or his hesitation, or something else, but he couldn’t tell why he felt guilty. Especially once he noticed that Sokka was smiling. 

“Don’t let me say anything else ever,” Sokka was saying excitedly. “It’s actually great that you’re a firebender. Like a real firebender. I didn’t know you could do that. Why didn’t you tell me you could do that? It was awesome. Like Katara always says she’s a waterbender, but she can’t do it like that. I mean, like you just did it. Like no problem.”

Zuko felt embarrassment darken the blush on his face. “It wasn’t awesome. I haven’t practiced in too long and my form was weak,” he said through rapidly numbing lips. 

Sokka clapped an arm around Zuko’s shoulders. “No, you’re way good. I mean, if I didn’t know you, I’d be scared of you, for sure.”

Zuko flinched under the weight of Sokka’s words. “I’ll keep us safe.” He wanted to say, ‘I’m sorry for being something you could be afraid of’. 

“You’re incredible,” Sokka said with such sincerity Zuko forgot the apology on his tongue. 

“Thank you,” he said and smiled despite himself. Then Zuko shivered again, the cold of the night now an enormous, damp presence wrapping around his body like a snake. “Please tell me we’re almost there.” Exhale in, two, three, four. 

“At least halfway,” Sokka said. Exhale out, two, three, four.

“Good,” Zuko said as he felt the kick of his inner flame finally responding again to his breath.

“We should keep moving. That wolf could come back,” Sokka said and his arm slunk away from Zuko’s shoulders. 

Inhale, two, three, four. Breathing to replace the heat draining from where their bodies had pressed together. 

Exhale, two, three, four, and he was moving again, following Sokka, illuminating their path barely with a flame dancing just above his fingertips. 

The terrain was uneven, lumpy mounds of shifting, powdery snow. Zuko fought with his snowshoes, forcing them upward in great swinging motions, even as they caught and dragged through the ground cover. His thighs ached, his ankles ached, the soles of his feet ached. 

It was either the snowshoes’ fault or it was his fault, but he blamed the snowshoes for the difficulty he was having maintaining the walking pace Sokka had set. It was the snowshoes’ fault his hips groaned with each step forward and rolled painfully as his footsteps landed. It was the snowshoes’ fault he couldn’t feel his feet anymore, or his calves, or any part of himself, really. 

In his thoughts, he cursed Sokka a little for forcing him into these torture devices, but then scolded himself for blaming any of this on Sokka. It wasn’t Sokka’s fault it was so cold or that the snow was so deep. In fact, this was Zuko’s fault really, for sleeping so late and wasting so much of the day’s light, making them walk this far in the Arctic darkness. 

He stopped blaming the snowshoes for how weak his body felt and let a quiet voice sing self-deprecations in time with the monotonous drone of -inhale, two, three, four, exhale, two, three, four- that occupied the majority of his internal dialogue. 

Maybe it was the voice inside telling him that he was weak and pathetic, but Zuko started to walk a little faster, more determined to keep Sokka’s pace than before. 

By the time the moon rose over the horizon, blindingly bright and huge against a now-cloudless sky, Zuko was losing control over his breathing. ‘Inhale, two, three, four’ had become ‘inhale, two, three, shaky exhale’ and he couldn’t hold his breath at all before inhaling again. The drill of the cold was piercing deep into his body, aching his lungs with each breath. His sternum felt hot and painful. 

The flame in Zuko’s hand had gone out a long time ago and his glove had been refitted; they were stumbling blindly now over the mounds of snowfall. Zuko was scooping up more snow with his snowshoes than he was managing to avoid. Though his head drooped, he couldn’t see anything beneath his feet, just felt the resistance each time he brought up his bound boot to take a step.

Sokka’s pace had slowed considerably, though Zuko was still struggling to keep up. They hadn’t spoken in what felt like hours, but Zuko was aware of Sokka’s presence by the sounds of Sokka’s labored breathing carried back to him by the gentle night wind. 

Zuko didn’t want to try to speak. His lips were solid and taut, stretched dry by the frigid air and sealed shut by their own numbness. He wanted to ask Sokka if they were almost there, but it wasn’t worth the effort. 

The moon continued to rise, creeping slowly above the rocky mountains in the distance, casting a harsher light as it peaked. At its highest, the landscape was completely illuminated by the moonlight, eerily distorted by long shadows. 

Without speaking, Sokka’s pace shifted direction and quickened. Aided by the light, Zuko knew Sokka had spotted the shelter. A rush of adrenaline took over his inaccessible limbs, endowing him with the strength to follow at Sokka’s heels. 

Zuko had no idea what Sokka was talking about when they reached a sudden halt and Sokka said, “Here, hand me your pack, I’ll throw the bags in first.”

Zuko scanned their surroundings, but saw only lumpy mounds of snow. When Sokka threw their bags into one of the lumps of snow, Zuko asked stubbornly, cracking his lips as they opened, “We’re here?”

Sokka undid his snowshoes, tossing them next to the mound, and bent to his hands and knees. “This is a real snow shelter. Not a hut or something. Come on. It’s a little cramped, but it’ll be alright.” He faced forward and crawled into the mound of snow, disappearing inside of it to Zuko’s concern. 

Zuko chewed thoughtfully on the inside of his lip, considering how, by anyone's standards, the snow shelter seemed too small, as he undid his own snowshoes, setting them by Sokka’s. He sank to a kneel in front of the snow mound and saw that it wasn’t solid; there was an opening, arched and densely packed, that he could crawl through like Sokka had done. 

With a sigh, he leaned forward, placing his hands on the ground to shuffle over it, into the shelter. 

The miniature shape Zuko had judged the shelter to be from the outside, proved to be accurate. 

Sokka’s body and the packs alone filled up almost the entire space inside. Zuko found himself smushed against Sokka’s body as he entered. To allow more room, Sokka pushed himself against the domed wall of packed snow, pressing his knees tightly to his chest. Even so, he had barely made enough room for Zuko to enter fully, much less rotate his body into a normal position. As Sokka moved about uncomfortably, trying to provide as much space as possible, Zuko tried to pull himself out of the kneel, untangling his legs from beneath him uncontrollably, finding that his motor skills had been dulled by the cold. 

One of Zuko’s knees felt stuck beneath him. He pressed both hands to the ceiling, barely above his crouched form, and yanked his leg upwards with a rough jerk. Awkwardly his knee connected with Sokka’s side, which he didn’t have any time to think about, because as he slid himself upright and into a proper position, he settled roughly back against Sokka’s elbow, drawing a sharp pain from his ribcage. Both Sokka and Zuko yelped from the sudden injuries, then Sokka began to laugh, a golden, bubbly sound, which prompted a release of laughter from Zuko as well, and they relaxed into each other, both sitting with their backs against the wall of the shelter, legs and shoulders squished together. 

“We made it,” Sokka said with air in his words. 

“We made it,” Zuko echoed, slumping more against Sokka, who felt sturdy beside him. 

“Gloves,” Sokka said and Zuko presented his gloved hands for Sokka to inspect. 

Their breath was rapidly heating the cramped space. Zuko wondered what it would take for the snow shelter to melt around them. 

Sokka pulled his hood off, revealing sweat plastered locks of hair, askew completely from the ponytail he had tied earlier, and tugged his gloves off with his teeth. With his fingers, he took Zuko’s gloves off. 

Inhale in, two, three, four. 

“What are you doing?” Zuko mumbled numbly as Sokka collected Zuko’s hands with his own and brought them to his lips. With his fingers, Sokka began to massage Zuko’s palms as he exhaled a steady puff of warm breath onto Zuko’s chapped skin. The question was forgotten as Zuko stilled and let Sokka continue to rub warmth into his fingers, generating pinpricks of pain deep through Zuko’s flesh which eventually gave way to a dull, even heat. 

“Why do you do things like this for me?” Zuko asked, feeling warmer and more comfortable. 

Sokka paused mid-exhale and his lips hovered over their entangled fingers. “What do you mean? Care for you?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Why wouldn’t I want to take care of you?” 

“I’m not expecting you to.”

Sokka released Zuko’s fingers and brought his own to his lips, releasing warm breath from his mouth as he flexed his hands in front of his face. “You should. Isn’t that the whole point of a soulmate? What else would I be here for?”

“I don’t know,” Zuko said. “How am I supposed to know what you’re thinking?”

Sokka sighed and dropped his hands to his lap. “What about what you're thinking? Don’t you feel anything?” he asked and shifted uncomfortably, jostling Zuko’s body with his own. 

Zuko thought about this, also thought about how close they were. Didn’t he feel something? The something he was always trying to push down, maybe. The things he thought about Sokka every day and then just willed himself not to think by telling himself he wasn’t worthy of thinking them. 

Blood churned in Zuko’s ears and he thought about what he wanted from Sokka. It was strange to be thinking about. But in the ringing alarm of the silence he was creating by not answering Sokka's question, Zuko didn’t want to think about anything else.

It was simple really, what he wanted from Sokka. It was only complicated in Zuko’s stubborn mind, which had been denying him the hope of reciprocity from Sokka. He tried to tell himself that Sokka was a liar and had even admitted to hiding something. But Zuko thought about the way he could always tell when Sokka was lying and how he could tell Sokka almost never lied. Even if Sokka had a secret, Zuko felt more instinctive trust for him than anyone, aside for maybe Uncle Iroh.

“Look, you can just assume that whatever you feel about me, I feel about you, whatever that means. Whatever you want from me, I want too,” Sokka said, almost sadly, and the guilt Zuko felt about things with his uncle collided with the guilt he felt about Sokka. 

Waves of static slapped together Zuko’s head, deafening, and the nerves in his throat twitched. 

Zuko thought then that he knew what he wanted from Sokka. Not much, he’d never want too much. He just wanted Sokka to be honest. Less even, really he just wanted Sokka to be present, to not leave. 

So Sokka was worried that Zuko would leave? Is that what he meant? 

So Zuko closed his eyes against the swell of noise his thoughts were generating and felt for Sokka’s shoulders with his hands, gripping them tight when he’d found them. Sokka’s body was soft and lenient under Zuko’s fingertips, he pressed deep into the folds of warm fabric and pulled Sokka towards him. 

Behind his closed eyelids, Zuko could only see red, bold and unmoving. 

Sokka’s breath was soft and rapid, pants of warm air Zuko could feel on his skin and Zuko gripped Sokka’s shoulders tighter. 

Swells of gold erupted in the red behind Zuko’s eyes and he thought about how his father could never approve of him, not with Sokka, like this. Ozai would hate this person Zuko was feeling more and more like. 

Deaf and dizzy by the volume of his thoughts, Zuko felt Sokka's breath catch and couldn't stop himself now from obeying the tug of his body, the obnoxious weight in his gut, the inconvenient magnet forcing him towards Sokka. In a sudden, abrupt motion, he rocked his head forward until his face collided with Sokka’s, a flash of white behind his eyes and an audible noise, and unevenly, their mouths smashed together. 

Blood swished against Zuko’s eardrums. For a heartbeat, Zuko stayed pressed against Sokka’s lips, unmoving.

Then Sokka was reacting, pushing against him, closer, and wrapping his arms around Zuko’s body. Zuko heard a crackle, like electricity in his ears, and a storm of color evolved behind his eyes as Sokka’s mouth sealed around Zuko’s top lip, firmly, decisively, and Zuko pressed back harder, with his mouth, with his hands, with his body and mind. 

No, Ozai would most certainly disapprove.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof am I really ending the chapter right as they're finally starting to kiss? my bad


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and we’re back

Sokka’s hold tightened around Zuko, one hand gripping the back of Zuko’s parka and the other sliding its way over Zuko’s hood. 

Zuko’s toes were numb and all he could hear was his own heartbeat as the colors behind his eyes receded away to a total red. He pushed himself closer to Sokka, hands gripping tighter still around Sokka’s shoulders, his teeth glancing over Sokka’s bottom lip as he inelegantly pressed himself into the kiss. His hands were shaking with the force of the tremors emanating from his chest. 

Sokka’s grip tightened on the back of Zuko’s hood and there was a sudden rush of cool air on Zuko’s scalp as the hood was tugged back. Sokka’s fingers met the crown of Zuko’s head, setting the skin alive with electricity. Zuko shivered, his lips broke away from Sokka’s for a hasty gasp. Then he was leaning harder against Sokka, one hand moving around Sokka’s shoulder to press against the front of his chest, and Zuko’s mouth was stuck again to Sokka’s. 

He could taste salt and char, and something sweet too, bubbling hot in Sokka’s mouth. 

He licked the flavor off of Sokka’s top lip with a cautious swipe of his tongue, and with the sudden register of a dim pain in his mouth, fireworks of gold and blue erupted behind his eyes. Sokka was biting his teeth into Zuko’s bottom lip. Just a nibble, not enough to hurt, but enough to send jolts of sensation through Zuko’s chest. 

His heartbeat lurched in his ears and Zuko felt himself collapsing. Whether his limbs were weak with weariness from the day’s journey or whether they were weak from emotion, was irrelevant to Zuko, he just knew that he was dead weight now, falling forward onto Sokka, who he had already been leaning hard against, and the two were being knocked to the ground, mouths still pressed together. 

Their teeth met with an audible clink as they collided roughly with the ground. Sokka’s head hit the ground first, then Zuko’s head hit Sokka’s head, bruising their noses together. 

Zuko yanked his head up with a startle, immediately feeling like he’d ruined this by being clumsy, as Sokka groaned a little and retracted the hand that had been on Zuko’s back to rub the sore spot on the back of his head. 

Sokka’s groan was followed by laughter though, a natural transition of sound. Sokka was laughing, then smiling, then his arm was reaching back around Zuko and with both hands, Sokka dragged Zuko back downwards, on top of him, so their chests were pressed together and Zuko’s exhausted limbs were sprawled out over Sokka’s body. Zuko pressed his weary hands into the ground on either side of Sokka’s head, but wasn’t using them to support his weight. 

Sokka’s mouth found Zuko’s again, Zuko’s lip glancing over Sokka’s teeth as Sokka continued to grin into their kiss. 

A shiver touched the back of Zuko’s neck and Sokka was biting him again. 

And Sokka’s fingers were running through Zuko’s hair, grabbing at it, pulling at it, to the rhythm of his kiss. 

Then they were running down Zuko’s scalp, touching the skin of Zuko’s neck, then they were forming a grip, pools of heat where fingertips pressed into Zuko. 

Zuko could only push himself harder into the kiss, lips pressing firmer and firmer around Sokka’s mouth with an unjustifiable desperation. He felt Sokka’s hand on the back of his neck, pulling him lower to Sokka, closer to him, but it wasn’t just the pressure of Sokka’s hand keeping him this close. 

Sokka was sweet and salty, caramel on Zuko’s tongue, hot and sticky. Zuko became addicted to the taste as the last lingering fraction of a thought about his father flew from his head, surrendering Zuko completely to the blaze churning in his stomach. 

He wanted to be touching Sokka, grabbing at his hair the way Sokka was doing to him, but he couldn’t convince his stubborn hands to respond. 

Eventually, he slid some of his weight off of Sokka a little by leaning himself to the left and relaxing onto the ground next to Sokka, right leg and arm still sprawled over Sokka’s chest, his head cradled in the crook of Sokka’s shoulder. 

Their pace was lazier now, still tugging at each other’s mouths, they had relaxed a little, savoring the taste of each meeting before breaking away for a gasp of air. 

Sokka’s breath on Zuko’s face each time they pulled briefly away was as warm as his mouth when Zuko was sucking at it. 

After Sokka had left Zuko with a swollen lip, his mouth hovered above Zuko’s for a moment, his breath breaking across Zuko’s face. He yawned. 

Zuko smiled softly and met Sokka with another kiss, lazily, sloppily, centering it more over Sokka’s chin than his actual lip. He spoke into the kiss, his words muffled against Sokka’s skin, “Go to sleep, then.”

Sokka petted Zuko’s hair. One pat. Then two. He yawned again and tried to kiss Zuko back, mouth wide, still halfway-through the yawn. 

Zuko smiled a little more and sealed his lips with a smack on Sokka’s chin, then yawned too. “Goodnight,” Zuko heard himself mumble embarrassingly into Sokka’s skin. His neck arched a little downward and his mouth slid from Sokka’s as he relaxed his head onto Sokka’s chest with another yawn. He gripped Sokka’s shoulder with his right hand and Sokka wrapped himself around Zuko, hands clasping loosely together over Zuko’s collarbone.

Zuko felt Sokka’s breath on his ears and the press of a kiss on the top of his head and couldn’t help the sigh he made as his breathing started to slow.

Gods.

Zuko’s heavy eyelids blinked to a shut and he had no choice but to release himself finally to the sleep he’d been keeping at bay for hours now. The last thing he heard before everything was unreal was the sound of Sokka’s rapid heartbeat against his ear. 

When he dreamed, Zuko dreamed about Sokka, though, in Zuko’s dream, Sokka was an alligator, with long, crooked teeth. 

Zuko spoke to the alligator in his dream, recognizing it, but feeling wary of it, still. He asked it how it felt, if it was surprised to exist. 

The alligator responded in Sokka’s voice, “I feel great. The problem is you,” and walked through the door that boundaried the room that had suddenly appeared around the two. 

Zuko followed the Sokka-alligator through the door, into the hallway that led from the little dream-room. 

Zuko recognized the hallway instantly with a sinking feeling in his gut. 

The walls were a rusty brown, shadowed evenly by massive red pillars lining the hallway, and the floor was a sandy marble. The dark, obscured ceiling above was a claustrophobic pressure on Zuko’s chest and he could smell smoke as if it were rolling from the walls. 

He half-expected his father to be lurking behind one of the pillars, but Zuko followed the Sokka-alligator as it led him down the hall, anyway.

At the end was another door, horribly familiar, ominous as ever, and behind it, Zuko knew, was Ozai’s throne room. 

The Sokka-alligator nudged the door open with its snout and entered the room like it wasn’t afraid.

Zuko was paralyzed outside the door until the Sokka-alligator said, “Enter,” in a tone Zuko’d never heard Sokka use. So Zuko swallowed his fear and entered the throne room. 

The fire wall surrounding the throne platform was active, but Ozai wasn’t actually present. 

Neither was the alligator-Sokka, Zuko realized, panic fully clenching his throat. 

“Zuko?” he heard Sokka’s disembodied voice, tense and shaking. It echoed around the chamber as Zuko spun around wildly, still not seeing the alligator. “Why are we here?” sounded like a plea. 

Zuko’s turned completely, facing his back to the empty throne. The sudden sound of a wet splatter of fluid against the marble floors met Zuko’s ears from behind and he heard Sokka screaming. 

Zuko’s heart rose in between his ears and when he whipped around, there was no blood on the ground and Ozai sat tall on the throne. 

Zuko knew he should kneel before his father, beg for forgiveness for his presence here, but his knees didn’t bend. 

Ozai glared quietly, obscured somewhat by the wall of flame before him, but Zuko didn’t bow. 

He stood and glared back at his father. 

“Psst,” was a whisper behind him and out of the corner of his right eye, Zuko saw Sokka, standing in the doorway, completely intact and no longer an alligator. Sokka jerked his head for Zuko to come over. 

Zuko looked back at his father, a statue with cold, hard eyes, not his father anymore but a wooly-pig with a beard, but the pig-Ozai didn’t have anything to say. In the silence, Zuko’s head rushed with relief. He went to Sokka, deciding to follow before he lost him again. 

Sokka ducked through the door and disappeared into the hallway. 

Zuko tried to run after him, but through the murk of the dream, he felt like he was running through mud, unable to propel himself with any speed. By the time he reached the door, the throne room was cold and dark behind him, the fire wall had extinguished, and Sokka was nowhere to be seen. 

The hallway was unusually dark, a dense, living fog obscuring it, and for some reason, there were windows along the walls now, providing a limited view of the grounds outside.

As Zuko struggled through the hallway, trying, and failing, to run, a full moon rose outside the windows, unnaturally large. The sight of it, the glimpses of it he caught as he passed the windows, filled him with a profound sadness, heavy and inexplicable. 

The hall stretched on forever, infinite in its darkness, and the moon grew larger and larger outside, until Zuko heard Sokka’s panicked yell from somewhere distantly ahead, “Zuko,” and he woke with a start. 

He woke to the still of the pre-dawn morning. Zuko was breathing hard and the early morning air was cool on his sweating forehead. He expected to be alone, to find Sokka missing, but as he deciphered the information of his senses, brought to use by the lifting sleep, he realized Sokka was definitely still here. 

They were still in the same position they had fallen asleep in, bodies still slumped together, protecting each other from the cold. Zuko’s neck was still arching, his head still on Sokka’s chest. Sokka’s chin had settled over Zuko’s head and Zuko could feel Sokka’s breath on his scalp.

His neck ached awfully now, though. 

Carefully, he withdrew himself and leaned back, away from Sokka a little, just to stretch his neck. The hand that had been laying limply against Sokka’s shoulder when he woke, he retracted to rub his neck. 

In a moment, Sokka’s arms were tightening around Zuko, at some point in the night his hands had become unclasped, which he fixed now. “What’s wrong?” was Sokka’s sleep-heavy voice. 

“My neck,” Zuko found himself divulging, defenseless to Sokka’s tone. 

Sokka’s right arm loosened around Zuko and his hand ran to Zuko’s neck. He pressed into the tendons, massaging them, as he pulled Zuko against his chest again. 

Zuko let himself be drawn back, releasing a sleepy puff of air as he met Sokka’s form. 

After a while of massage, Zuko’s breathing had slowed considerably and the tension of his neck had melted to a negligible ache. Sokka said around a yawn, as he continued to rub the back of Zuko’s neck, “Go back to sleep, Zuko. I can tell you’re still awake.”

“It’s morning,” Zuko said and knew it was, even though there was no way to gauge it inside of the shelter. 

Sokka sighed and dropped his hand to the ground, dramatically. “But like the sleeping still part of morning, right? Not the being awake and walking again already morning, right?”

Zuko smiled weakly. “You can sleep more if you want. I should meditate. Center my fire, and all.”

Sokka groaned and pushed Zuko off of him with a shove. Zuko stifled a huff of indignation at being deposited on the ground like a blanket. “Fine, jerkbender. Do your meditation. I’ll make breakfast.”

Zuko couldn’t tell if Sokka was mad, so he asked.

Sokka rolled onto his side to face Zuko. He propped himself up with his right elbow and peered into Zuko’s eyes. He was shaking his head but a grin was plastered to his cheeks. “The normal amount of mad, yeah,” he said, laughing. The corners of his eyes drooped with tiredness. “Can’t expect a guy to not be a little mad about being woken at the crack of dawn, expected to hand out a massage like it was nothing, and then asked to make breakfast.” 

“I didn’t ask you to do any of that,” Zuko said, a little sullenly. 

“I can’t hear you,” Sokka said, raising a hand to shush Zuko. 

Zuko closed his eyes as he rolled them.

Then Sokka’s hand was on his chest, then gripping his shirt, then pulling him closer. Zuko’s eyes sprung open in surprise. “Relax,” Sokka said as he closed his mouth over Zuko’s for a moment, stifling any attempt by Zuko at a reply. Then, as quickly as he’d grabbed him, Sokka was pushing Zuko back down, gently, though, still gripping Zuko’s parka so the landing was controlled. 

Zuko let himself be set down. 

His face felt warm.

Sokka stretched over Zuko, laying on the ground, to reach the bags on Zuko’s other side. During the night, Sokka had slept closest to the snow wall, sandwiching Zuko comfortably between the packs and Sokka’s body. Now, Sokka had no way to access the bags without reaching across Zuko. 

As Sokka began to rummage through the packs on elbows and knees, his hip bone jutted awkwardly into Zuko’s rib cage and his elbow into Zuko’s shoulder. Zuko squirmed and slid himself out from under Sokka, sliding his back up against the snow wall when he was free and folding his legs underneath him. 

His face still felt warm as he closed his eyes to the sound of breakfast being assembled. He placed his hands on his knees and willed them not to shake. He thought to himself they were shaking from the cold. 

Inhale, two, three, four.

Never mind that the snow shelter was comfortably, if not a little humidly, warm from their breath during the night. 

Exhale, two, three, four. 

To still his hands, he upturned his right palm and flipped the left down to cup his knee. Above his open, upwards palm, Zuko crafted a tiny flame, the smallest he’d ever tried to make before. He closed his fingers steeply above the flame, loosely caging it and focused on keeping the tiny flame alive, while never letting it grow larger than the size of a pea. 

He lost his thoughts to the ebb of energy he urged into and out of the flamelette, a patterned shift between giving and taking in order to keep its size consistent. 

When Sokka, prodded him with a finger, steeply enough to jerk Zuko out of his meditation completely, it was startling, enough to extinguish his little flame in an instant. Zuko felt like he’d just closed his eyes. 

“Zuko?” Sokka was saying and Zuko started to feel like he’d actually been meditating a while. “Where are you?”

“Stop it,” Zuko said and irritably batted Sokka’s hand away from where it was poised for another poke. “I’m here, is there a problem?”

“Breakfast is ready,” Sokka said and kissed Zuko on the lip again, suddenly and briefly. When Sokka pulled back, he looked diffident, like he either doubted the kiss or he doubted the breakfast he’d prepared and the kiss had been pre-emptive compensation for that. 

Sokka’s kiss didn’t startle Zuko this time. It was starting to feel normal, which was surprising, he supposed.

“Where do you go when you meditate?” Sokka asked when he’d withdrawn. “I was trying to get your attention for like ever.”

“I don’t go anywhere,” Zuko said, feeling a hunger pang in his stomach. “I just clear my head. Where’s the food?”

Sokka’s other hand was behind his back and he withdrew it sheepishly, revealing a leather bag clasped between his fingers. “Seal jerky?” Sokka asked. 

Zuko nodded. He didn’t mind the taste of the jerky.

“Can’t cook anything in here, I’m sorry.”

Zuko nodded again. He understood. He just wanted Sokka to hand him the jerky. 

“I promise I’ll make hot food tonight when we get to the next shelter. Even if I’m tired, but you have to remind me. Or make me. Whichever mood I’m in.”

“Sokka,” Zuko said. 

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” and Sokka handed Zuko the weighty bag. 

Zuko opened the drawstring of the pouch to take out a handful of jerky and offered the open bag to Sokka. 

Sokka snatched the whole bag and proceeded to eat straight from it, unrestrained shoveling. Sokka moaned through a full mouth and Zuko thought he saw tears budding over the waterline of Sokka’s eyes. “So good,” Sokka mumbled as he ate. 

Zuko smiled as he ate his own jerky. 

Sokka’s pace of eating didn’t slow until he suddenly stopped, clearly withholding himself for the sake of food conservation. He reached his hand into the bag one last time and withdrew a small bunch of jerky, which he handed to Zuko, who had just finished his own handful. 

Zuko finished the second handful of jerky as Sokka watched. The meal was surprisingly filling, settling as heat in Zuko’s belly. 

He felt better once he’d eaten, warm and full. Tired too, like he wanted to lay back down and fall asleep again next to Sokka. But he asked instead, “Should we head out, then?”

Sokka groaned. “It’s too early, Zuko, please.”

Zuko felt like it was his turn to kiss Sokka now, if only to convince Sokka to give in, but when he leaned in to actually do it, Zuko’s hands reached Sokka’s and he settled for gripping Sokka’s fingers and kissing them instead, heat burning his ears. For all the thinking about touching Sokka he’d done, he was surprisingly uncertain about how to actually go about it. “We need to keep moving,” Zuko said weakly, lacking the conviction he needed to convey. 

“Unfair. How am I supposed to argue with that? Obviously, we need to keep moving. Excuse me for trying to extend our morning just a little bit. I thought it’d be nice.” Sokka’s chest puffed over-exaggeratedly. 

So Zuko kissed Sokka’s fingers again and said, “I want that too, but it’s not safe. We’re both awake-”

“Speak for yourself.”

“We’re both awake early which means extra time which means extra distance between us and the waterbenders. And between you and me, I’m not particularly looking forward to being apprehended by them again.”

Sokka laughed but looked pained. He waved the hand Zuko wasn’t holding in defeat. “Fine, obviously you’re right, Princess. We’ll go.”

The left side of Zuko’s mouth twitched into a smile and he kissed Sokka’s fingers again, one more time, in his victory. 

Sokka was smiling and he said, “You’re a tough negotiator, Zuko.”

So Zuko smiled back as he rolled his ankles experimentally in preparation. 

Sokka placed the cinched jerky bag back into one of the packs and sealed that too. “How’re your boots?” he asked and Zuko remembered that he hadn’t remembered to take his boots off before falling asleep. 

“A little damp,” Zuko replied unhappily.

“Shit, mine too,” Sokka said.

“Give them to me,” Zuko said. “I’ll dry them.” He wasn’t really sure if he could dry the boots or not, but he wanted to try. Theoretically, he already knew the technique.

When Sokka managed to drag his boots off and hand them to Zuko, Zuko gripped them one in each hand. 

He let a surge of energy rush into his palms, separating it into channels up his fingers. He felt a shake in his hands, but it was only the energy they were containing that was moving. 

With the exhale of his breath, he pulled on his inner flame, sending a churn of more energy into his palms.

He let his palms heat until he feared they might combust without control, then he stopped pulling on his inner flame and focused instead on gently pushing the thermal energy out from his hands to the air surrounding the shoes, carefully avoiding drawing an actual flame into existence. 

This reminded him of the firebending exercises he’d done as a child, before he was competent enough to produce an external fire, but he was acting more delicately now than he had as a child and his efforts were met with more success. 

It only took a moment before the dampness of the boots began to crackle and dissipate into steam. 

When Zuko handed the shoes back to Sokka, they were bone dry. 

“Pretty impressive,” Sokka said with a furrowed brow, inspecting Zuko’s work. “Pretty impressive.”

Zuko smiled and ripped off his own boots to dry them the same way. His hands were still buzzing with energy and the whole thing took less time now that he was warmed up. 

He rather liked firebending around Sokka, he was discovering. Despite the fear he still harbored that Sokka would change his mind and revert back to hating all firebenders as soon as Zuko would slip up and make a wrong move, Zuko found himself looking forward to firebending, because he liked the way that Sokka spoke to him when it happened. 

Sokka seemed impressed by the basics anyway, which was definitely within Zuko’s capability.

“I think you’ve been underestimating yourself as a firebender, Zuko,” Sokka said as he tied his boots on. 

“I think you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Zuko snapped back quickly. “You have no idea what a firebending master looks like.”

Sokka raised his hands in defeat as he finished with his boots. “Fine, fine, okay. I’m just saying, you’re not half bad at it. Could’ve fooled me, is all.”

Zuko almost wished he hadn’t argued at all.

“Ready?” Sokka asked and Zuko hastily tied his boots. 

Sokka pushed their bags outside of the shelter as Zuko readied himself, tying his boots and snatching his pair of gloves off of the ground. 

Sokka crawled outside after the packs, so Zuko grabbed the other pair of gloves still laying on the ground and followed on hands and knees through the shelter opening. 

When Zuko had gotten most of his body through, Sokka was grabbing him by the front of his parka and roughly dragging him the rest of the way out. “Shh,” Sokka urged with wide eyes and dragged Zuko a few steps away, depositing Zuko hastily behind a different mound of snow. Sokka crouched beside him, hovering there for a moment.

Then Sokka touched his palm to Zuko’s head and pressed down on it, pushing himself up to sneak a glance over the top of the snow mound. 

“Shit,” he said over the quickening pants of his breath when he ducked back down, turning his back to the mound and sitting like Zuko, who’d pulled himself up a little. 

“What?” Zuko asked in a low, rushed whisper, ignoring the instinct to fix his hair now that Sokka had mussed it.

“Waterbenders,” Sokka said.

Zuko winced, forcing a hiss of air through his teeth, probably too quietly for Sokka to hear. 

When he strained his ears, Zuko could make out the distant sound of voices, barely audible above the drum of his heartbeat. 

With a quick motion of his hand, Sokka urged Zuko to keep moving, so crouching, Zuko sped forward a few paces to the next nearest snow mound they could both duck behind, Sokka following closely.

They waited a moment, the mound of snow obscuring both their bodies and their vision, anxious limbs still ready to move. But Zuko could hear the voices in the distance more clearly now. In fact, much more clearly. Sokka bobbed his head above the mound for a second, monitoring the waterbenders with narrow eyes. Then he grit his teeth and waved his hand again. So they took the chance and rushed to another hiding spot, furthest yet from the snow shelter. 

As their backs hit the protective barrier of snow, they were both breathing hard, Zuko’s breath only a little more restrained than Sokka’s. “Shit,” Sokka was saying, though it was mostly lost in the gasp of his breath. “What do we do?”

Zuko could feel his heart thudding in his fingertips. “Wait,” he said but wasn’t sure if he was answering Sokka’s question or pleading for more time.

“Shit,” Sokka said and sounded distraught.

Zuko reached for Sokka’s hands with his own and wordlessly passed him the gloves he’d forgotten. “They’re not going to find us at the shelter. Won’t they just move on?”

Sokka shook his head as he took the gloves from Zuko and put them on. “It’s warmed, the snow’ll still be soft. Probably will still have fresh indents from our breath. Or our bodies. They’ll see we’re close. Shit. This is bad. What do we do?” He pressed his newly gloved hands to his uncovered hair. 

Zuko was trying not to match Sokka’s panic. “Maybe if we stay really still and quiet, they’ll pass right by us.”

Sokka gave him a look of despair. “We need to destroy the shelter.” 

“What?” Zuko hissed in a quiet whisper. The once distant noises of the Water Tribe group were now painfully close. They were nearing the shelter and seemed to know exactly where they were headed.

Zuko’s heart thudded loudly and he thought he felt Sokka’s despair.

“Destroy it, Zuko. Make a distraction somehow.”

Zuko shook his head. This was clearly beyond his capability. What did Sokka expect him to be able to do?

But Sokka was looking at him so expectantly, so desperately. Sokka kept talking, “Just something to keep them stuck here for a moment. Like a remote explosion or something.”

Zuko shook his head again. Sokka had no idea what he was talking about, but something was beginning to spin in Zuko’s mind, nonetheless. 

So Zuko shook his hands and slipped off his gloves, which he stuffed into the pockets of his parka. 

He turned his right hand upwards, baring it to the now snowless sky, and drew a flame to it. He forced the flame out of his palm, tossing it upwards through the air a little, and tried to focus on its energy as it drew away. 

Usually, he only concentrated on the flame as it was exiting. He’d never tried to connect with the fire once it had already been directed away from him. 

He expected to lose contact with the flame as it rose higher. But he was realizing that he could still feel it, still feel its tether to the fire beating in his core. 

Sokka watched silently with wide eyes as Zuko gripped his palm into a tight fist, yanking the fire down through the air with an artful loop for flair, to the snow, where it extinguished with a hiss. 

“Great distraction,” Sokka hissed sarcastically.

Zuko exhaled through his nose and felt warmth rise to his ears. “Quiet,” he said in a voice of gravel. 

His gut rolled with strain as he drew another flame to his palm, manipulating the energy coursing into it, tugging it narrow and tall, so thin it became nearly invisible. 

Sokka’s eyes widened again and he nodded with his chin. 

Zuko looked away from Sokka. He took a heavy breath and outstretched his arm, so his palm, and the flame it was holding, were facing straight out from his chest, the opposite direction of the waterbenders. 

On his exhale, he outstretched his other arm, two fingers and thumb extended on its hand, pointing straight up to the sky, and brought his flame arm close to his chest. 

He inhaled and closed his eyes, drowning out everything in his mind except the buzz of the energy he was channeling. 

He exhaled and rolled himself upwards onto the balls of his feet, to a steady crouch. With the same momentum, he punched his flame arm outward, low to the bumpy ground so the flame’s path would be obscured by snow, pulling back the other arm to his chest to balance the form. 

As the transparent bullet of flame left his hand, Zuko diverted it into three streams, concentrating so hard on the separation of energy he felt like his temples would explode. 

With strain of both his mind and his inner flame, he sent one stream of fire to the left, one directly in front of him, and one to the right. 

He heard crackling, electric static in his ears as he stood still, right arm poised in front of him. He felt the shape of the flames he’d released, could feel the tug of them in his hand like they were attached by some imaginary string to the tendons of his palm. 

Sokka whistled quietly. “Uh, Zuko?” he whispered. “Wrong direction.”

Zuko’s temple twitched with irritation, but he cleared his mind almost as quickly. Sweat condensed across his forehead. 

The blasts of flames, spread out and distant now, jerked suddenly as Zuko closed his outstretched fist firmly, yanking the flames back in an arc, hurling each back towards the shelter from their separate directions. 

A pant emerged to disrupt the patterned control of Zuko’s breath and the steady stream of energy he’d been drawing from his core was disrupted momentarily. He relaxed his forehead and allowed himself a moment to gulp the air into his sore lungs, releasing himself of the control of the flame bullets. He was certain enough they’d meet their target without him. 

Zuko turned his exhausted neck to pop his head up over the wall of snow at his back and watch the air shimmer as his flames whistled nearer to their goal. 

Sokka’s head bobbed above the barrier next to Zuko’s. “What’s supposed to be happening?”

“Shh,” and they watched together as the glistening air, the only real indication of the flames’ location, met the walls of the snow shelter, then glided through them, effortlessly dotting the shelter with six coin shaped holes. 

Zuko’s brow furrowed, but he felt Sokka’s hand tighten around his own. “Look,” Sokka gasped. Surprise bloomed as the holes began to grow outwards, dripping snow water like wounds, as the residual heat of Zuko’s blast extended. The holes grew, becoming fist sized, grew, becoming dinner plate sized, grew, until, quite rapidly, the heat had consumed the entirety of the small, hollow mound of snow, leaving nothing behind but a steaming puddle. 

The waterbenders had reached the shelter, but only in time to witness the three separate blasts of fire melt through the snow. 

Zuko could hear a clamor of puzzled and angry voices rise from the group of soldiers. Then he heard a distinct shout, “Well it didn’t just come from nowhere, stupid. Someone sent that fire. The delinquent prince is still nearby.”

Trying to be helpful, another waterbender said into the ringing silence that ensued, “I felt one of the blasts, sir. It came from the north, they must be trying to hide out inland. Maybe one of the ice lakes.”

Someone else interrupted then, irritably, “Stop it, you’ve been mistaken. I was over there when the fire burnt right past me!” Zuko watched the crowd of men gasp as the speaker held out his right arm, for effect, the sleeve of his singed parka still releasing a curl of gray smoke into the air “They’re heading south, Captain.”

A mesh of voices collided then and Zuko couldn’t make out anything more distinct from the squabble until a man, who had until now been holding his tongue, said loudly, but rather timidly, “Sir, is it possible there were multiple blasts? I think I saw one come from straight down.” 

“There’s only one firebender, idiot,” was the captain’s furious response and the group erupted into yelling again. 

Sokka was laughing into his glove. 

Zuko tugged Sokka back down behind the snow. “Lead the way,” Zuko said as he fitted his gloves back on, before Sokka had a chance to speak. 

“Sure asshole, don’t let me tell you how cool that was, but if you ever try to say you’re an untalented bender again, I’m going to do,” he lost his thoughts a moment as his eyes searched Zuko’s, “I’m going to do something so bad to you.”

“What?” Zuko asked in a laugh-whisper. “What will you do?”

“Curse you.” A flustered Sokka. 

“Lead on, moon boy. I know you can’t curse me.” A mildly flustered Zuko, cheeks still warm from the flush of bending. 

And Sokka smiled, pride on his face, before he steeled his expression and nodded. 

Zuko took off after Sokka and they ran, crouching still, stumbling over their too-desperate legs, into the single soft yellow finger of daylight stubbornly lurking just barely above the eastern horizon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please guys be brutally honest with me about how you feel about these bending scenes. i feel like a fraud 😩 do i even make sense?


End file.
